


His Shadow at the End of the World

by CrossoverSPN



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - The Walking Dead, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Bad Parent Chuck Shurley, Bottom Dean, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Closeted Dean, Drug Use, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Poverty, Top Castiel, Veteran Castiel, Walkers (Walking Dead), very brief suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 00:57:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 67,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13330092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrossoverSPN/pseuds/CrossoverSPN
Summary: When the zombie apocalypse hit, Sam and Dean did what any sensible, red-blooded Americans would do. They headed for Canada.





	1. Who knew the Impala wouldn't work well on icy mountains?

**Author's Note:**

> This story started out as a crossover of putting the Supernatural characters in The Walking Dead world with some Shameless US infused in it, but it sorta became its own thing. Though, I'm pretty sure this John Winchester could have become Negan. 
> 
> Please read the tags for trigger warnings.

Even with the thick chains secured on the Impala’s wheels, and the trunk and back seat packed full of supplies, the car still slipped and slid her way over the icy mountain roads of central Idaho. Dean winced as the car gently bumped into a mound of snow and ice before drifting back across the highway, “Sorry about that, baby,” he muttered under his breath as he tapped the breaks, bringing her down to 5 miles per hour. 

Despite Dean’s work to regain control of the Impala, she willfully crawled closer to the unguarded edge of the mountain. Sam’s eyes widened as he watched each slow inch guiding them closer to their deaths. Nervously, he leaned away from the edge, in a futile attempt to slow the car’s movement with his weight, all the while trying not to look at the thick blanket of fog that now covered the valley far below. Even with his best efforts, as they slipped closer and closer, Sam’s mind flashed with images of the Impala being enveloped in that fog before abruptly smashing into some giant pine tree, covertly waiting below, ready to impale them. 

“Dean...she’s not stopping…”

“She will, it’s ok Sammy…” Dean practically whispered, trying to convince himself of his own words as his left hand unconsciously went to the door handle in preparation, his mind racing a mantra of ‘please stop’ as he continued tapping the breaks to gain traction. 

Sam bit his lip as the Impala moved closer and closer like a child chasing a kite into a busy street, completely unaware of the impending danger. “Dean, we have to bail,” Sam’s voice cracked as he spoke, his eyes unable to tear away from the ledge, “Dean!” 

Dean shook his head, unable to speak, his fingers twitching on the door knob. The snow under them creaked as the first tire, pushed its way off the road and onto the sliver of mountain that hung along the edge like trimming. Dean instantly tore off his seat belt, threw the door open, and jumped out. He held the door, trying to get a grip on the ground beneath him, but his boots slid in the thick ice and snow as his brother wiggled and crawled out after him from the passenger seat.

Sam quickly got back on his feet and grabbed the side of the car as well. He looked over and saw the desperation in his brother’s eyes. Beyond just meaning life or death on this mountain, this car was their last piece of home, neither of them wanted to lose her. They held tight, both whispering quiet prayers begging the car to stop as the sky pelted them with thick snowflakes. There were mere inches left before the first tire was free of the mountain’s support when suddenly the tire chain collided with a thick rock and the Impala heaved to an abrupt stop. Sam opened his eyes and glanced over at Dean, unsure if it was safe to move. Dean looked back, still frozen in place, and only after a few moments of still did a smile of relief spread over his face. Sam smiled back and soon they were both laughing- the kind of laugh you can only laugh when you aren’t even sure you’re alive. 

The two quickly worked at securing the Impala to the mountain side and then slid her back towards it. It rested in the left lane of the highway, but they knew there wouldn’t be any traffic. They settled in for the night with thick wool blankets, a bottle of Jack Daniels, a box of stale crackers, and a jar of peanut butter. They watched the snow fall and layer on the hood of the car. It was already 3 inches thick and showed no sign of slowing down. At this rate, by morning, they could expect more than a foot on the ground. 

“At least there won’t be any walkers up here,” Dean offered as he took a swig of whiskey to warm himself up before passing it to Sam. 

Sam took the bottle and threw back a mouthful, grimacing as he passed the bottle back, “You don’t know that.” 

“Hell, you saw that population sign back there, they counted the fucking animals. Even if the whole damn valley got turned and marched their way up here, we could take ‘em.” 

“I guess…still, better not to let our guard down though. Don’t want to end up like we did in Wikieup.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me of that shithole. Space-Cowboy Snoopy is still haunting my fucking dreams. Luchia’s diner being totally cleaned out didn’t help either. A slice of pie MIGHT have made the whole thing worth it.” 

Sam gave an airy laugh and shook his head as he felt his chest warm from the alcohol. He let things fall silent for a moment, trying to gauge the air before he spoke, but he knew this conversation would have to happen sooner or later and it might as well happen sooner when they were both still thinking straight. “Dean...what are we gonna do? The snow isn’t letting up and it’s not likely to. There is no way the Impala is making it up or down this mountain safely.”

Dean stared out the window where the moon was lighting up the snow as if purposely trying to antagonize him. Stupid moon. Stupid snow. “I know…” Sam could almost taste how bitter those words were. 

After Dean didn’t respond, Sam carefully started throwing out ideas, “We could fill up the backpacks with as much as we can carry and head back down to the valley. If we are careful, we could be back to the bottom in a couple of days. Then, maybe we just snag a place and hold up until the end of winter? Maybe we could even come back and get her in the spring? It’s not like anyone will be able to take her.”

Dean thought about it for a moment, but he always got to the same place: the long haul. “Let’s be real for a minute here, if she can’t even get through this dump, she’s not gonna make it up north is she…”

Sam pursed his lips, he had been avoiding the subject for a while, but they were going to get to this point eventually, “Not unless we find a tow truck or something.” 

Dean let out a long sigh and leaned back, tugging the scratchy wool blanket higher up over his shoulders. “Let’s…let’s just talk about this tomorrow.” Sam nodded and tried to get comfortable. Since the car was so packed, it was nearly impossible for someone his size, but he couldn’t bring himself to complain about the beloved car- especially knowing that they might have to leave it soon. 

Dean woke up to something cold and round being pushed against his forehead quickly accompanied by a rough, young voice shouting, “Hey, fucker, wake up!” His eyes shot open to see a teenaged girl with long, wavy blond hair packed under a thick gray ushanka hat and a large hunting rifle being pointed at his head. “Get out of the car and keep your hands where I can see ‘em,” she demanded. Dean looked back at Sam who shrugged, completely confused.

“You mind if I put my coat on first or you feelin’ a little trigger-happy?” 

The girl’s eyes wandered a bit as if considering and that was all he needed. Dean leaped from the car and snatched the gun, turning it on her in one smooth movement. “Lesson #1, never pull a gun on someone if you aren’t ready to shoot. Now, time for some answers, where the hell did you come from?”

The girl stared at him with a depth of hate and defiance only a teenager could muster up, “Go to hell!”  
“Looks like it’s gonna be you first at this rate, kiddo.”

Sam got out of the car and walked over, pulling his coat on, “Hey, my brother doesn’t mean that, Dean put the gun down. She obviously lives around here, maybe she can help us. What’s your name?” 

“Help? She’s trying to ROB us, Sam, or did you miss the part where she put a fucking gun to my head?”

“She was just being careful, it’s smart. You would do the same, in fact, you always do the same.”

“Yeah, well, when is the last time we actually met any decent people?” 

“Charlie?” 

Dean sighed and lowered the gun. “Fine, but for the record, that was months ago. Everybody since? Douchebags.” 

“Then, I’d say we are due for a win.” 

The girl fixed her eyes on Sam as he approached her. She seemed to stand a little taller without the gun in her face, “Look, I’m not interested in being friends and I have no way to help you out of the stupid ass mess you’ve gotten yourselves into, but if you give me my gun back, I won’t tell anyone about you and I won’t come back for your stuff until you’ve turned or left or whatever, ok?” 

“Well aren’t you just the damn sweetest. Thanks kid.” Dean rolled his eyes and he opened up the trunk, “Good call on this one Sammy, real helpful.” The girl watched as he lifted another hidden department in the trunk to reveal a hoard of weapons. 

“Holy shit, is that a grenade launcher?!” The girl’s eyes widened with excitement and Dean laughed as he tossed her gun amongst the rest. 

“Damn right it is. Starting to regret your life choices now?”

Sam sighed, “Can we please just start over? Dean…you know we need help and this…honestly, she might be our only real chance to not die out here. We have to be realistic, even hiking back down the mountain is a huge risk in this weather.” 

“Wow, just give ALL our weaknesses to the enemy, Sam, great job.”

Sam rolled his eyes and approached the girl, “Look, I’m Sam and that’s my brother Dean. We are just on our way up to Canada; we’re trying to get away from the cities to find a place where we can live without having to worry about being overrun by walkers. If you’ve been around here the whole time, you might not know how bad it is, but…every major city out there has already fallen…it’s bad.” 

The girl looked him over curiously, “Canada, huh? That’s some plan. I guess maybe I could help you,” she shrugged and took another step towards Sam. Sam smiled with relief. Suddenly, with one lightning fast reflex, the girl snatched his coat sleeves and used them as leverage to fling her knee up into his crotch. Sam gasped for air as he doubled over, and the girl ran for it. “Or not! Good luck, losers! I bet you won’t make it off this mountain! See you and that sweet rocket launcher again when you’re brain dead!” She taunted.

“Little bitch!” Dean grabbed the rifle from where he had just put it down and started aiming when Sam grabbed his arm, still breathing heavily and hunched over.

“No, Dean, let her go.” 

“Like hell, you know how this goes. It always goes like this, we let her go, she comes back with ten guys ready to fucking execute us.” 

“And how well has that worked for ANYONE so far.” 

Dean grunted in frustration as he tossed the rifle back down. “Fine, you want to fight a war when we are stranded on a goddamn icy death mountain, we’ll do that.” 

“She hesitated…you saw that. I think we should follow her. If nothing else, she’s clearly not a killer. Maybe she’s with good people. I mean, maybe the whole town migrated up here, that would explain why we didn’t see any walkers or people down there. This is our best shot at help, we have to take it.”

Dean shrugged and picked up an assault rifle from his storage of weapons, “Guess even if shit goes south, we’ll have found a place to hold out at least, once we take it.”


	2. Some things you just can't plan for...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam follow the mysterious girl through the forest...

Once they were off the narrow road and into the forest, the girl managed to escape out of sight fairly quickly, but with the snow as untouched as it was, her tracks stood out like a beacon on a clear day. Dean and Sam trudged through the snow, following her trail, each staying alert for an ambush as they went. 

After several hours of trekking through the thick snow, their jeans and long johns were drenched up to the knee, they were both starving, and Dean’s patience had run its short course, “This is ridiculous. Clearly, she lives in a fucking cave at the top of the mountain or some shit.”

“A cave? Seriously?”

“The kid is batshit crazy, where else would she be living?” Sam rolled his eyes and Dean continued more seriously, “Look, I sure as hell don’t see any cozy cottages up here, do you? Either she is screwing with us because she knows we are following her or she honest to fucking god lives at the top of the mountain. Either way, if we keep following her we are gonna get lost out here and freeze to death, which quite frankly is probably exactly what the brat wants.” 

Sam looked around for options, “Maybe we should get a little higher up, then we can get the layout of the land, see where she is headed or something? That hill over there doesn’t look too bad. Here, you stay by the tracks, and I’ll take a look.”

“Wait, Sam, we don’t even have any climbing gear with us,” Dean called out, but Sam was already heading over to the small slope. 

Sam turned back briefly, “I’ll be careful, just wait there!” 

When Sam got to the ridge, he found it to be rockier, and more drastic of an angle, than he had previously expected. He balanced himself with nearby trees as he tried to feel out the rocks buried in the snow. The higher up rocks were visible at least, but still slick with several inches of snow piled up on them. He pulled his waterproof gloves out of his coat pockets and took his time brushing the snow off the rocks he could reach. Once he felt satisfied that he could at least safely get up a few feet, he found a foothold and began pulling himself up. 

“Sammy?” Dean called from where they left off at the girl’s tracks, but Sam didn’t call back, he just continued to push higher. 

Sam’s gloves gripped each icy rock firmly, and his long legs allowed him to reach otherwise difficult to secure footholds. Still, no matter how high he went, the trees still blocked his view. As he began to press higher, the wind started to pick up. His wet pants stuck tightly to him, making each movement of his legs stiff. The cold wind bit his flesh everywhere it wasn’t covered, and it tore at his lungs as he breathed it in. He pressed his head close to the mountain and looked up, squinting through the snowflakes as they assaulted his face, blurring his vision and making his ears and nose feel like blocks of solid ice. Blindly, he moved one of his feet looking for a higher foothold, but he was starting to shake, and his foot seemed to slide right off every rock he touched, “Dammit.” 

Dean waited by the tracks, watching his brother make his way up the side of the mountain. At first, he watched vigilantly, ready to run over at the first sign of trouble, but eventually, when Sam seemed to have a steady pace, he relaxed and went back to looking around the forest. While there was still light, he needed to try and take in as much information as he could. If they were still out there by the time the early winter sun set, he doubted they would find their way back to the highway. It didn’t help that the thick snow was already starting to smooth their tracks over. 

The trees weren’t too thick, probably perfect for navigating if you knew them well enough. Dean started looking for any interesting differences that he might be able to spot later. That’s when he noticed movement not far off. He squinted through the thick snowflakes, bringing one hand to his waist where his hunting knife was and the other up to shield his eyes. His muscles tensed, the thing was coming closer; its movement was fragmented and slow. The only detail he could make out was red: just a blur of red. 

Once Sam had a strong foothold again, he moved a few feet higher, finally reaching beyond at least some of the smaller trees. The movement, the demand on his body, and his adrenaline started to warm him up and gave him a sudden burst of confidence, pushing him up even higher. 

When he finally reached high enough to see over most of the nearby trees, he carefully tugged some small binoculars from his coat pocket and took a closer look. He noticed that the mountain curved downward not far from where he and Dean had tracked the girl, creating a small valley within the surrounding peaks. He   
Below, in the dip in the hills, he spotted a small cabin with a snowmobile parked out front. There was a thin tunnel of smoke rising from the chimney which meant they had a fire going inside. The cabin seemed to sit right by a stream and there were massive tire tracks in the snow leading away from the house. He watched for a while, but even with his binoculars, it was impossible to see much more through the thick snow. He couldn’t see beyond the windows and no one was coming out. Still, as far as he could see, there were no other buildings around and with the fire going, someone had to be home. He concluded that it had to be where the mysterious girl had gone- and even if she wasn’t there, maybe they could still get some help. With their newly wet clothes, they were going to need it more than ever. 

Finally, Sam started to lower himself back down, taking it slow, moving one step at a time. Once he was only 3 feet above the ground, he pushed off and let himself land in the snow, shooting clouds of fluff up as he did so. He made his way quickly back to his brother and found him with his knife out and a dead walker at his feet. 

“Wow, I can’t leave you alone for 5 seconds, can I? What did I miss?” Sam asked, looking down at the corpse. At their feet was an older man in hunting gear. The flesh on his cheeks had rotted and slipped down leaving gaping holes where his yellow, blood-stained teeth could be seen. His heavy flannel jacket was layered with a thick sheet of ice and his fingers were black. 

“Elmer Fudd here musta got a little lost, probably died of frostbite by the looks of him, so much for no walkers in the mountains, I guess.” 

“I guess. Can’t be that many though. We would have heard or seen something by now. Besides, he looks half frozen, couldn’t have been that much trouble.”

“Yeah, old fucker was slower than usual, might as well have walked into my knife. So, anyway, what did you find on the rooftop, Spiderman?” 

Sam ignored the nickname, “Actually, I found a cabin. I didn’t see the girl specifically, but it seems to be the only one around and there were definitely people home, they have a fire going.”

Dean’s eyes brightened with that, “Well, annoying teenaged girl or not, at this point, I’m willing to put up with a lot to warm up by a fire, let’s go.” 

As the pale winter sun began to pull behind the mountains, the brothers made their way through the forest, still following the girl’s tracks until they heard the sound of running water. Sam put a hand up to stop his brother, “We must be pretty close now, there was a stream that went right by their house and it didn’t look that big.” Dean nodded that he was listening and followed Sam towards where the mountain began to curve down towards the small valley. Sam smiled when he finally saw the cabin again, his eyes brimming with hope, “There it is, and not a minute too soon, I’m pretty sure my feet are numb.”

Dean looked it over critically, “Yeah, but hey, if we can see them from here, they can probably see us too. Let’s stay low to the ground and scope the place out. Cold as fuck or not, we take our time, just in case. Got me? Who knows, she might have an army or some shit in there.”

Sam nodded, “Good idea. Come on, let’s head over that way, the trees seem to be a little thicker.” 

The brothers crept low to the ground and made their way slowly through the forest. When they got to the beginning of the slope, ready to descend into the valley, they both held onto the branches of the nearest pine trees and stepped carefully forward, feeling the ground ahead of them. From what they could feel, just beneath the snow were icy, slippery roots, waiting to trip them at every step. They shared a hesitant look. 

Dean looked the cottage over again, mentally preparing himself for what was about to come. He could almost see a figure in one of the windows, but he was still too far off to be sure. Still, compared to the rapidly darkening forest, the place glowed like heaven itself with warm golden rays pouring out of every window. It looked like something off a Christmas card. Until the world came to an end, Dean was a city boy, he couldn’t even imagine seeing a place like this in real life, all tucked away in the middle of nowhere, but now here it was in front of him, and the cold, the setting sun, his wet clothes, and his hunger, all drew him in like a fly to the fire. He hoped whatever happened next wouldn’t come to killing everyone inside, but they needed this place and Dean was not going to be taking no for an answer. Maybe, with a cozy little hideaway like this, they wouldn’t even need Canada. Maybe this could be home. They could finally stop running, stop looting for every little scrap of food, stop worrying that every person they met was either going to eat them or kill them. Maybe they could finally make something real here. 

Going down the hill was trickier than they had initially thought and soon both of them were stumbling through the snow with every step. Sam moved from one tree to the next, sliding and wobbling in between with his arms out wide like he was trying to balance on a beam. Every bit as graceful, Dean stumbled and tripped with every step until finally his steel toed boot tip got caught in a large root and knocked him forward, face first into the next tree, leaving bright pink bark and branch imprints on his cheek. Dean rubbed the spot and glared at the tree as he unhooked his foot, “When I need firewood, you are definitely the first to go.” 

Eventually, Sam got to the bottom while Dean gave up after falling on his ass and slid the rest of the way, covering himself up to the shoulders in snow and dirt in the process. Sam looked at him with worry, “Dean, what were you thinking? What if we have to go back to the car tonight? You could freeze to death.” 

Dean brushed the excess snow off of himself, “We aren’t going back to the car, Sam. I don’t care what happens, we are getting in that damn cabin.” Sam looked away nervously and eventually found himself focusing on the cottage again. 

Now that they were closer, Sam could see just how well lived in the place was. There were old Christmas lights still strung up along the edges of the cottage, as if waiting for civilization to return to normal, a water pump was set up next to the stream with large buckets ready to carry water inside, and an outhouse sat a ways out in the trees, though not too far away. The tire tracks he had seen earlier led to a simple open shed that had a multitude of tools that were hanging on hooks, crammed on shelves, and stuffed in large boxes. The cabin itself seemed large, some windows were covered with thick red flannel curtains and some curtains were left open, but the heat from inside was fogging them up. Of course, the best detail of all, was the spicy-sweet smell of barbeque coming from inside. He waited, hoping to see someone pass by a window, but still, he didn’t see or hear anyone. 

“Let’s check out the back…” Dean whispered. Sam nodded and followed him, staying low as they got closer and closer to the cabin. Then, as they approached, they finally heard something. There was music playing inside. 

“Is that…David Bowie?” Dean asked, and Sam blinked a few times, a curious smile on his face.

“Yeah, I think it is. Space Boy, right?” 

Dean listened for a minute, then nodded, chuckling a bit, “Yup. Well at least the kid has taste, I guess.” Dean whispered with a shrug before moving forward. They went to the back of the cabin and the music got louder, but still, they couldn’t see anyone inside due to the fogged-up windows. 

“What do you want to do?” Sam asked.

“Hmm, let’s make our way all the way around and head back to the front. Honestly, if we haven’t seen or heard anyone, by then I don’t think there can be that many of them.” 

“Maybe the majority of them went on a run or something, that would explain the tire tracks.”

“Could be, all the more reason to hurry this up, come on.” 

They carefully made their way around the far side of the cottage when suddenly Dean heard Sam scream in pain. He jerked back around and saw Sam gripping his thigh, looking down in a panic. He followed his brother’s gaze and saw a bear trap, jutting out of the snow and clamped tightly around Sam’s leg. “Shit, don’t move!” 

Dean had never seen a bear trap in real life, much less opened one. He looked it over trying to figure it out, quickly becoming desperate at hearing his brother’s cries of pain. He pulled helplessly at the heavy clamps, trying to pry them open, but each tug brought the teeth of the trap back across Sam’s flesh, making him scream again, though he quickly shoved his arm over his mouth to muffle it. “Hold on Sammy, I can figure this out, just, hold on, ok?” Dean spoke frantically as he looked at the different parts of the trap, wishing he had a flashlight as he squinted in the fading light. 

“Wow, you two are bigger idiots than I thought.” 

Dean looked up and saw two dark silhouettes towering above him. The girl from before was there standing close to a tall young man with a thick tan coat, a green scarf, and dark blonde hair sticking out from under his fur lined hood; both of them held hunting rifles at the ready, though the boy looked more curious and concerned than ready to fight. 

Dean closed his eyes in frustration and put his hands up, “Look, you win, just, please, help him.” 

“First toss over that crazy machine gun you have strapped to your back,” she shouted, and Dean complied, tossing it over into the snow towards her. The girl scooped it up and looked at the young man beside her, almost in question. 

“He’d want us to help.” The boy spoke softly with a gentle tone, in a drastic contrast to the girl who seemed to always be ready to fight. 

In a somewhat exaggerated defeat, the girl handed the boy the guns and went over to Sam and Dean, “Out of the way, old man.”

Dean moved and watched as she quickly unlocked the trap, going as far as to help Sam move his foot out of it. When she finished, she picked up the trap and walked back over to the young man, trading it for one of the rifles while Dean helped hold Sam up as he carefully moved his foot around to see if anything was broken. Then Sam gingerly let his foot touch the ground, “Thank you,” Sam said quietly, managing a smile through the pain. 

The girl shrugged, “No big deal….so, what are you two doing here? With a gun like this, I imagine you were planning on robbing us? Or maybe just killing us?”

“We just want to talk, maybe get some help while we figure out what to do about our car, that’s all. The gun was just for protection,” Sam insisted. 

“Who brings an assault rifle just to talk?” The girl asked motioning to the gun. 

“You can never be sure who you’re gonna be dealing with. But you already know that, that’s why you woke me up with a rifle to my forehead,” Dean shot back. 

The girl looked him over suspiciously and thought about it for a moment before finally giving a dramatic sigh, “We’ll take a look at your brother’s foot if you want…but don’t try anything or I swear to god I’ll shoot you both in the head.” 

“Claire!” The young man said in surprise, but she just gave him a warning look before looking back at Sam and Dean. 

“Coming?” 

“Yeah, thanks, come on, Sam.” Dean put his arm around Sam to help him keep from putting too much weight on his injured foot. The two teenagers led them into the cottage and instantly they were hit with warmth. Claire shut the door behind them and sat down with both her rifle and Dean’s gun on her lap, watching them, ready to pounce the minute they did something out of line. 

The boy gave an awkward smile to the brothers, “I’ll just go get the medical kit, I doubt you will have anything worse than some bruising, but just in case, it might be good to clean any areas where the skin got torn. Please, have a seat, our father should be home soon. Maybe you can join us for dinner. Oh, and I’ll get you some clean clothes, you both must be freezing.” 

“That sounds amazing, thank you,” Sam answered; it was hard not to focus on the pain, but in exchange for a warm meal and some dry clothes, it would be worth it. 

Dean helped Sam sit down on a large, well cushioned, old couch. It was covered with a homemade quilt and some small soft pillows. They looked around the living room, the whole place felt homey, if not a bit cluttered. There was an old TV still hanging on the wall above the fireplace, but it was partially covered by stacks of books sitting on the mantle. A large battery powered boombox sat in the corner, playing a cassette tape of random David Bowie songs. Gear, supplies, and potted plants also seemed take up various parts of the floor space, along with a stack of board games and a half empty bag of what looked like homemade potato chips. 

“So, Claire, is it just you, your brother, and your father? Have you always lived up here?” Sam asked, but Claire just patted the gun on her lap and narrowed her gaze. Sam swallowed and looked over at Dean who just shrugged. An awkward silence took hold of the room as they waited for Claire’s brother. He came back out with a pile of clothes and a large medical kit. He sat down on the carpet and looked over at Claire.

“Can you at least take care of dinner while I do this?” The boy asked while he opened the medical kit, not even bothering to look up at her. 

“But Jack-“

“I’ll be fine, please. Father will be home soon and I don’t want him to come home to a burnt dinner.” 

Claire rolled her eyes, “Fine. Just, be careful, and shout if you need me. You two hurt my little brother and I will fucking end you.” She pointed to her eyes and then to them, to prove she would be watching them, before slinging Dean’s assault rifle over her shoulder and heading into the kitchen. 

Jack pulled up a small stool and motioned for Sam to put his foot on it. “Let’s see, does this hurt?” He gently ran his fingers around where the trap had been and Sam winced, nodding. “I see, definitely some deep bruising, can you wiggle your toes?” Sam wiggled them and Jack smiled, “Nothing broken at least and it looks like the cuts aren’t that deep either. You know, in movies they make it look like these things are so horrible, but the truth is, they are made to hold animals, not tear their limbs off, it hurts, but it’s not the end of the world or anything. I actually got my foot stuck once too.” Jack pulled out a small wet towel and dabbed the spots where the claws had scratched Sam’s skin open. Then he dabbed some rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball and began cleaning the wound. 

“Thanks Jack,” Sam said quietly, and the boy looked up with a bright smile. 

“You’re welcome.” Once he was finished, he closed the medical kit, “There you go, all better. You can both go change in my room if you’d like, it’s probably better than going out to the outhouse. Here, follow me.” Dean looked around as Jack led them through a small hall to his bedroom. The walls of the hallway were covered with the kind of generic scenery pictures you would see in a hospital, the kind that are supposed to make you calm or some shit. When they got to Jack’s room, it was covered in movie posters, particularly Star Wars. There was a candle on the bedside table with a small stack of books next to it. The top one being “The Art of War.” His room was immaculately clean otherwise. His clothes were all organized and his bed was made perfectly, despite having what looked like 5 giant blankets on it. 

“I’ll boil some water for coffee. Come out when you are done.” Jack beamed at them and gave a small wave as he closed the door behind him. 

“He’s a nice kid,” Sam said as he hopped across the room to sit down on a plush office chair in front of Jack’s desk, trying to keep weight off his foot as much as possible. 

“Yeah, guess his sister got all the anger issues, huh?” 

“Be nice, she’s just a big sister trying to take care of her little brother, if anyone could relate, I figured it would be you.” 

Dean shrugged and started changing out of his wet jeans, “So, what’s the plan? We are gonna need one when the dad shows up.” 

“We just ask him for help and see what his ideas are. Honestly, looking at this place and these kids, I can’t imagine he’s a bad person.”

“I guess…that doesn’t mean he’s just gonna roll out the welcome wagon though. This guy has his own family to take care of. If he sees us as a threat, this could still come down to a fight.” 

Sam sighed, “Only if we provoke him. We don’t have to stay here or anything. Maybe he knows some other little place like this in the area that we could use, they seem to be doing really well here….and it could be nice to just stay somewhere for a while.” 

“Yeah,” Dean agreed quietly. Ever since they left home, they hadn’t stayed anywhere for more than a week at a time, and even a week was a rarity. They were always running, looking for home or familiarity, or even just safety…but all of those were in short supply these days. 

The two quickly changed into some flannel shirts and jeans that were surprisingly nearly the right size, and met back in the living room. Claire was sitting in her chair, curled up under a blanket, sketching. She still had Dean’s assault rifle next to her on an end table, but she seemed much more relaxed now. She hadn’t even grabbed it when they re-entered the living room, though she did flash a warning glare their way. Jack was back in the kitchen. They could smell strong black coffee mixing with the smell of barbeque. 

Sam took a seat on the sofa and peaked at Claire’s drawings. She was drawing what looked like a map. “Battle plans?” 

Claire looked up and blushed a bit, pulling the drawing closer to her chest, “It’s nothing. Just, supply run stuff.” 

Sam nodded understanding. Since everything changed, finding supplies was crucial to survival. He could only imagine that a place like this would be hard to survive in the winter without a store of food. 

Dean looked through the books on the shelf in the living room, there were assorted classics, some anthologies, and a ton of philosophical stuff. When his eyes landed on Slaughterhouse 5 he grinned and snatched it from the stack, plopping himself back on the couch.

Jack brought out coffees for everyone and they sat in a slightly less awkward silence as Dean read, Claire drew, and Sam and Jack made small talk. When Jack heard that Sam and Dean had made their way there from Chicago, he wanted to know everything about their trip across America. 

It was another hour or so before they heard a loud engine roar up the driveway. Sam looked out the window through the gap in the curtains and saw the flash of a massive black truck, with what looked like a snow plow attached to the front. 

“Dad’s home!” Jack grabbed his coat and scarf and ran outside towards the shed. Claire got up to follow, swinging Dean’s rifle around her shoulder, then she paused at the door and sent a cold stare at them. 

“Just to let you know, he was a Green Beret, you pull anything, and he’ll kill you faster than you can scream for help- even with just his bare hands,” she warned and turned to leave the cabin. Sam and Dean looked at each other for a minute, both wondering if she was serious or not while they waited. Jack came back first, he had couple of small boxes full of supplies in his arms, but he managed to hold the door open as Claire and their father came in, both carrying so many boxes their faces were hidden behind them. 

They went into the kitchen to unload and then Claire and their father came out. Claire headed outside to finish unloading the truck and they could hear Jack in the kitchen organizing the supplies, but everything became white noise almost instantly when Dean saw their father remove his heavy, snow covered hood. Dean’s eyes went wide and his mouth hung open as he stared at someone from what he considered the most private and fucked up chapter of his life. “Castiel…” 

“Dean?” Castiel’s eyes went wide as well as he looked the man over, unable to move. 

Sam looked over at Dean, “Wait, like Castiel Novak? The kid you beat up in high school? The one you got expelled over?” 

“Yeah…something like that.”


	3. Facing the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward family dinner time.

They didn’t speak about it, instead Castiel followed Claire outside and together they finished unloading his truck while Jack set the table in the kitchen for dinner. Old forgotten memories blurred together in Dean’s mind as he unabashedly stared at Castiel from across the dinner table. It had been a long time since he had eaten freshly cooked meat, and considering Claire killed this deer herself, it was probably fresher than any meat Dean had ever eaten, but none of it mattered. There, right in front of him, was Castiel Novak, the man who had shaken his entire world up in ways no one else ever matched. 

Now that he was out of his coat, Dean could see that he was bigger now, the military threat from Claire must have been true based on his build…and the extra scars on his face and hands. Plus, when he thought about it, he vaguely remembered that when he knew Castiel, the boy was in ROTC and smart as hell, so it made sense that he would get into some kind of special ops group. Still, bigger or not, some things didn’t change. His eyes were still the same piercing, brilliant blue and he still carried an aura about him that made Dean feel comfortable; even if their acquaintance had both began and ended with his fist in Castiel’s face, no one had ever made him feel more at peace than Castiel fucking Novak. 

“So, Claire mentioned she found you on the highway?” Castiel finally spoke and Dean nearly shuddered at hearing how deep and rough his voice was now. He didn’t remember it being that deep before. Then again, that was high school. Dean’s own voice had been a lot higher then too. 

Sam looked at Dean for a moment, but when his brother continued eating in silence, he took over, “Yeah, you remember our dad’s old Impala?”

Castiel gave a wistful smile, “Who could forget? That thing was like a monster roaring down the streets, and then the rumors about it…those were always…colorful.”

“Rumors?” Sam asked curiously and Castiel grinned.

“Rumors about midnight drag racing and hitting people who owed money, that sort of thing.” Claire and Jack looked at Castiel in shock and he laughed, “I’m sure none of those rumors were true…” The look in Castiel’s eyes gave him away, at least to Dean. Everyone knew their father and what he was capable of, but Cas knew better than most. 

Sam cleared his throat, “Right...well, needless to say, it wasn’t really built for winter travel; we nearly went off the mountain.”

“The roads in this area are dangerous in the winter, especially when you aren’t used to them. Despite the multiple fatalities every year, they never seemed to get around to putting up guard rails. I suppose it’s too late for all that now of course,” Castiel went quiet for a moment before continuing, “So, what exactly are you doing in Idaho anyway?” Castiel asked, his eyes purposefully staying away from Dean.

“Actually, we’re just passing through on our way to Canada. We were thinking we’d look for a place out in the mountains, way up north, where we can build a cabin or something, away from all the walkers, kind of like what you have going on here. This place is beautiful.”

“Thank you, still, I don’t understand, why not just go north from Chicago? This is more than a little out of your way,” Castiel pressed curiously. 

Sam lowered his eyes at that, “Right, well, before we left America for good, we wanted to stop around a few places to check up on people: family, friends, you know?”

“Of course. I take it by their absence that it didn’t go well?” Straight to the point, no pulled punches, no bullshit: the south side way. Guess even the army couldn’t burn that out of him. 

Sam didn’t even flinch, “Well, dad might be alive. He was in prison when things went crazy, but by the time we got there, the prisoners had already broken out. We searched for him for about a year, but we couldn’t find him. Then we headed over to Nevada to see some old family friends, but they weren’t around either. The whole world is just chaos out there, everybody that’s still alive is in the wind. What about you? I remember you had a pretty big family…”

“I doubt all of this has killed my father either, he is a bit of a cockroach. As for the others, my sister Anna is dead. I know she would be here if she were alive…the others I’m not sure. I hope they are doing well, but to be honest, I didn’t have much contact with them towards the end.” 

“You always seemed really close before,” Dean pointed out quietly and Castiel finally looked at him in a mixture of hurt, anger, and curiosity. He didn’t hold the gaze long.

“We were, but after I retired from the service, I…needed space. Some of my siblings didn’t understand that. They just kept pushing…expecting things to go back to what they were before…that’s when I moved here.” Jack looked at him with worry. Castiel gave him a comforting smile before looking down to his hands, “It…it’s getting late. Why don’t you both stay tonight? Tomorrow, I’ll take you to your car and see what can be done. The sofa is a pull out, we don’t have any other spare room, I hope that’ll be ok.”

“Considering we’ve been sleeping in our car for the last week, trust me, it sounds perfect,” Sam said with a smile. Castiel didn’t return it, instead he went to find them pillows and blankets. Claire cleaned up everything after dinner while Jack went to the cellar to finish organizing their new supplies. Castiel pulled out the sofa bed and covered it with a sheet, two blankets and two pillows, all of which had different designs and most likely had been looted from the locals. 

“If you need to go to the bathroom or anything, there are flashlights right outside the door. I’ll see you in the morning…goodnight,” Castiel said quickly and Dean watched him go. It hurt, and it was confusing as hell. Dean had been expelled from high school at 16 and he hadn’t seen Castiel since then…he hadn’t even thought about him. Well, the first few years, he wouldn’t let himself think about him, couldn’t think about him, then eventually, like all things, that chapter passed and was locked away. Dean had moved on with his life in the poverty-stricken south side of Chicago, and like every fuck up that gets stuck in that shit hole, that meant a blur of parties, sex, violence, criminal activity, and substance abuse. He was 30 now. Almost half his life had taken place after that chapter with Castiel…and yet, when he looked at him now, he still felt so many conflicting and confusing feelings. Like he wanted to apologize, or fight him, or kiss him…or at least ask him where he’s been. But Dean didn’t have any right to do any of those things and tomorrow Castiel would probably figure out a way for him to get through the mountains and they would be back on the road…mystery unsolved. 

When everyone was finally in bed and the candles were out, Sam finally got up the courage to whisper to his brother from the other side of the pull-out bed, “So, Castiel Novak…”

“Yeah…?” 

“I didn’t really know him. Went to school with his little sister Hannah though. She was an interesting one: class president, did charities, straight A’s, then all of a sudden knocked up at 15.”

“Yeah, well, their father was a piece of shit, you know that, everybody knew that. 6 kids left to fend for themselves in the south side of Chicago, bound to make mistakes.”

“Yeah, Chuck was a piece of shit; half the time I saw him he was passed out in his own vomit near the river, but Michael took care of all the younger kids, right? They always seemed really happy. Mistakes or not.”

“Most families were happier than us, that doesn’t mean shit.”

“That’s fair, but most families weren’t happy like them. I don’t know, they always seemed to have each other’s backs. Thanks to her brothers and sister, Hannah still finished high school. Cas apparently joined the Green Beret,” Sam’s voice was full of envy and admiration. 

“Yeah, Michael became a clinic doctor, I remember seeing him when I went to get checked.”

“Oh yeah, after you slept with that one girl, what was her name?”

Dean thought for a moment, “You know, I don’t actually remember.” 

“Gross.”

Dean laughed, then went quiet, “Anna was pretty sweet…” He could still remember the sting of her slap and the strength and conviction of her voice, even when she was crying. “I wonder if she’s really gone…”

“Chicago itself is gone…” Sam said quietly. They fell into silence, but it was almost immediately interrupted with horrific screaming from deep within the house. “Shit!” Sam and Dean both jumped out of the bed and followed the sound down the dark hallway. 

Jack and Claire were out of their rooms just as fast. Claire ran into Castiel’s room and Jack stopped at the doorway.

“It’ll be ok in just a moment, I promise. So, please, just return to the living room,” Jack looked at them through the darkness with large, pleading eyes, before turning to go inside, quickly shutting the door behind him.

Dean and Sam looked at each other. From the other room they could hear Claire trying to wake Castiel up. 

“Castiel? It’s just a dream, wake up. Cas! Jack, get the knife from under his pillow.”

“Right!”

The brothers stared at the door waiting, and finally after a long moment, the screaming had finally stopped, but the kids didn’t come out right away. Realizing that they couldn’t do anything useful in this situation, the two brothers went back to the living room. 

“What was that about?” Sam asked as he climbed back under the blankets. 

Dean shook his head, “No idea…he wasn’t ever like that when I knew him.”

“You mean, when you were beating him up?”

“Will you stop saying that…that’s not…there was more to it, ok?” 

“Yeah? As if you ever needed a reason to beat people up back then.” 

“Sam, just, leave it, ok?”

“I’m just saying, we are lucky he didn’t throw us out considering what happened between you two.” 

“You don’t know shit about what happened, so fuck off.” 

“I would know if you just told me. I mean you were 16, what’s the big secret? How bad could it possibly be?”

Dean closed his eyes tightly, feeling tears start to build in his eyes, he remembered his hands around Castiel’s throat, the blood running from his forehead where the gun had hit him, the worst part was Castiel’s eyes…he didn’t fight back, not even when Dean needed him to, and his fucking eyes were always so full of understanding and forgiveness that Dean didn’t want or deserve. 

It was over an hour later when Dean heard Jack and Claire return to their own rooms. Sam was already asleep, but Dean couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he could see a memory with Castiel and all of them hurt- even the good ones, especially the good ones. The more he let himself remember, the more raw and confusing it all became. It got to the point that all he wanted to do was sneak out and start punching trees until his hands went bloody, but instead he just laid there and tried to push all of it out of his head. In the end, Dean didn’t get to sleep until the sun was already coming back up. 

He had barely been asleep 2 hours before his brother tried to wake him up. “Dean? It’s time. Castiel is going to take us to the Impala,” Sam shook Dean as he spoke. Dean grumbled and rolled away. Sam sighed and shook him more, “Seriously, Dean, now is not the time, for once, can you just get up?” 

“May I?” Castiel asked as he came in with a cup of fresh coffee, Sam shrugged and got out of the way. Castiel spoke softly, “Dean, I have coffee for you.” 

He had heard those words before. In his half asleep haze, he remembered waking up naked, reaching for the coffee and leaning up for a kiss, “I fucking love you.”

Sam looked at Dean with wide eyes as Dean realized he had said the last part aloud, “Fuck, I mean, thanks Cas-tiel, Castiel.” He held out his hand and looked away ashamed. Castiel walked up to him and handed him the coffee, whatever he thought about Dean’s slip, he didn’t show it on his face. 

Dean still couldn’t believe it. Here at the end of the world was THE Castiel Novak. He was standing right there, right where he had been before, all those years ago, right in Dean’s space, right where Dean could just reach out and loop his arms around him, but unlike before, now the man quickly moved away and Dean was left with nothing but his coffee and an empty space. To be honest, Dean figured it was probably for the best, but that didn’t mean it felt any less awful. 

“So, after Dean drinks his coffee, we can go to the Impala…I doubt it will be in any position to travel, but we can assess the situation at least. There is a tow truck in town…that may be your best option if you insist on taking it through the mountains. I presume you still know how to hotwire a car?” 

Dean nodded, taking another sip of his coffee and Sam’s curiosity just grew. Whatever had happened between them, it was clearly more than just another bout of Dean’s teenage rage. His brother had been in and out of juvie and then prison for most of his life, following in their father’s bloody boot prints, it seemed. But after the world had changed, things seemed to be getting better. He seemed less angry, he seemed free, but this was different…the way he looked at Castiel, was different. Maybe fixing their obviously broken friendship could do more than just make Dean free, maybe it could actually make him happy. 

“Then, perhaps I can take you both to town and drop you off there. I’m sure you will be able to tow the Impala through the mountains without much trouble.” 

Warning alarms went off in Sam’s head, “No, wait, actually, Castiel, we were wondering if there were any other cabins like this one…maybe…an unoccupied one? We were thinking that it might be best to hold up for the winter. You know, to re-think everything now that we know the Impala can’t really make it up north.” Dean looked at Sam confused, but Sam just smiled, “Plus, we could team up for the winter: share supplies, be extra hands if a hoard comes through, I mean, people are better together right? It’ll be like old times, our families, everyone back home used to team up all the time.” 

Castiel eyed him suspiciously, “To throw parties, steal large drug shipments, and beat down pedophiles, you mean? It’s not quite the same thing as sharing a roof and exposing my children to-”

“Sure it is, it’s still all just civic pride, right? A community taking care of itself, everybody watching each other’s backs against whatever comes, be it cops or walkers, it doesn’t change things. You know we would be handy to have around, we can fight, we can loot, and you know we won’t just bail on you. No lies, no bullshit. As for your kids, we would never hurt them and if you don’t want them knowing, we won’t tell them anything about the south side or any of it. Right, Dean?”

“Sam-“ Dean started, but Sam knew that tone and held up his hand. 

“Castiel, we promise we will carry our own weight…we just…we’ve been running since Chicago…the whole world has gone to hell and I honestly don’t think we’ll ever run into a familiar face again…” 

Something about that seemed to strike a chord with Castiel and his gaze softened, he finally looked over at Dean with several unspoken questions. 

Dean looked back, lowering the coffee to his lap, he seemed torn, but when he saw Sam’s determined face, he sighed, “We uh…we don’t want to be a burden. If you want us, we’re here…if you don’t, we’ll go.”

Castiel looked out the window to where Claire was near the stream chopping wood for the fire. Jack was further out, scribbling plans for a fence he wanted to put up. “I suppose…if you wanted to put your feet up for a bit…we could use some extra hands.”

“Thanks, Castiel. You won’t regret it,” Sam said with a wide smile, but Castiel still couldn’t return it. “Should we still go get the Impala? We have all kinds of supplies. Food, water filters, and tons of weapons, just in case.”

“Yes, it would be best to get it off the road. We can go to town and get a trailer to tow it up here with my truck. Maybe the two of you can do a sweep for supplies while we’re down there as well, get whatever you need, toothbrushes…clothes…maybe even a map of the area? I don’t know of any other cottages around here, but there might be something. A spare hunting cabin, perhaps.”

“Should we expect trouble? Looked pretty empty on the way up, but we didn’t really look around that much,” Dean asked, putting the empty coffee mug down on a small table by the couch. 

“No, when it hit this town, it hit fast. Claire, Jack, and I cleared it out. We’ve kept a list of the people who lived there, there are only a few that we haven’t located yet.”

“Was one an older hunter, pot belly, big ears?” 

“Jim…yes. Did you find him?”

“Yeah, we took care of him out in the woods.” 

“I see…we should pick him up on the way…give him a proper burial in the cemetery. Castiel left the room, then poked his head back in from the hallway, “Be ready in ten.”


	4. The course of true love never did run smooth...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go on a supply run; Castiel takes advantage of the first adult conversation he's had in a long time to open up about what happened the night before, Dean starts to remember their youth, and Sam grows curious-er and curious-er.

Sam got in the backseat while Dean took shotgun next to Castiel in his truck. The minute he started the engine, a Led Zeppelin album kicked on and Dean grinned to himself. Sam scribbled out a list of supplies they would need to get from town, thicker coats was the top of the list, followed by snow boots, and some of those fancy athletic undershirts that absorbed sweat and held heat in. The snow had slowed down some, but it was still pouring down over the mountain. Dean was in awe at the fact that the truck didn’t slide on the narrow, icy highway at all: the massive weight, the extra tires, 4-wheel drive, and the heavy chains kept it easily in control. Not that he’d ever let anyone know he was impressed. 

Castiel gripped the wheel tightly as he made his way passed the Impala and down toward the town. “If…you plan on staying with us for a while…I feel it’s only right that I explain about last night.”

Dean looked over at him from where he had been leaning against the window, letting his breath blow small foggy clouds on the glass, “Yeah, the screaming like a madman in the middle of the night thing was a little…surprising.”

“I bet,” Castiel went quiet for a moment, as if thinking about how to start. “After high school…I went into the military like I had planned. I got into special forces, Green Beret, actually. My team and I did all kinds of covert missions in the…War on Terror. I was in for years, spent most of my time off U.S. soil…lost track of my family, everything I ever was in Chicago. It was like a whole new start where things finally mattered. Where I could do some good.”   
Dean tried not to take that last bit personally, but it still stung, not that Castiel seemed to notice as he continued, “We did all kinds of missions: recon, rescue, sabotage…some days I felt like a hero, and other days…” Castiel let out a quiet sigh and Dean watched him, pained that the boy whose light had once seemed to outshine the fucking sun, had gone through so much. 

“Nothing was like what I had been expecting back in high school. I thought it would all be heroics and fixing the world, but it was just… injury after injury and kill after kill,” Castiel’s voice was low and his eyes seemed distant, “Like, one day, we were just driving to a new base and we got ambushed on the road. One of the cars in our caravan exploded and it turned into a firefight. There were bodies everywhere…pieces of people I knew just…scattered around. I got hit with shrapnel during the initial explosion, I thought it was fine at first, but I ended up with serious blood poisoning. Nearly died. Another time, me and my team got captured and we were tortured for information for weeks…nearly died that time too…at the time I wished I had. But, as bad as all of that was, the worst stuff wasn’t even the things that were done to us, it was the things we were forced to do. Like, this one time, we were forced to clear a town…even the children were soldiers. No one would surrender…it was a bloodbath. All the things I’d seen…the things I’d done…it all just piled up. By the time I got to retire because of an injury…I was glad. I still have constant pain in my arm, but I couldn’t have lasted any longer than I did. I was so happy when my family picked me up at the airport. I thought coming home would erase everything, I thought I could just start my new life or something, but being back didn’t really make anything better. I couldn’t be around people anymore…I couldn’t handle the Chicago noise. I got jumpy, started having flashbacks, anxiety attacks…night terrors.” 

Dean listened quietly, unable to look away from Castiel; now that it was daylight and they were this close, Dean could see the scars on his face, the thick lines around his eyes from age and stress, the little bit of white that had begun to infiltrate his hair far too early. 

“I moved out here to get away from everything and everyone…just…to try and get myself under control. Honestly, I was a mess. I just, watched TV, sat around in a blanket, trying to block everything out. I was only here about a couple of weeks before I got the news that one of my friends got blown up and…his uh…his wife didn’t take it well, she ended up in the hospital after she tried to kill herself. His two kids needed a guardian and it turned out that he had named me their godfather…so they shipped Claire and Jack over to me.”

“I was wondering about that…” Dean said quietly.

Cas nodded, “I figured you might be. It was terrifying at first, at that point I felt so out of control with my own life, I wasn’t sure I could take care of them, but it was me or the system and we’ve all spent enough time in foster care and group homes to know I couldn’t let that happen to my friend’s children. Looking back on it now, I’m glad I pulled it together, they turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to me. They probably saved my life to be honest. We needed each other, even though we didn’t know it. Claire…rebelled a lot at first, she was angry and lost, and I was…angry at everything: the military, myself, humanity in general. And Jack was so scared and alone…something I have felt more often in my life than not. Over time, we managed to pull together…and now here we are…end of the 9th and still standing…more or less.”

“Damn right you are,” Dean agreed and Castiel smiled a bit at that.

“Anyway, the…night terrors still happen sometimes…the panic attacks too. I just wanted you to know… in case you hear me again…or something happens…I want you to know what’s going on.”

Dean nodded. Castiel had always been the kind of person that wanted to take care of other people. Even with his shitty family situation where he and his siblings spent time on the streets with no roof over their heads, no food to eat, and a shitty father who abandoned them at every turn to get high, there was Castiel, brushing off the toxic south side quick sand from his boots: an army poster boy that actually wanted to save the whole damn world even though it had never done shit for him. And this is what it got him. 

Sam waited for Dean to say something, but when he didn’t, Sam gave a quiet, “Thanks for telling us, we’re here to help, so, if you need anything…just ask.” Castiel gave nodded in response. 

Dean looked back out the window, curiosity and need tugging at every bone in his body. The more he heard, the more he ached to do something or say something, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do or say exactly, but just that every part of him was tense as he tried to restrain himself. He wanted to comfort Castiel, or yell at him that he had told him the army would be a mistake, or maybe he really just wanted to feel the connection they used to have in a show of comradery. All Dean knew was that Castiel’s tiny, broken hint of a smile hadn’t been nearly enough, Dean wanted to hear him laugh again, he wanted to see him light up like used to, he wanted to see the selfless, brave, unrelenting badass that had completely wrecked him as a teenager. He knew after everything that had happened between them, he had no right to do or say anything, but he couldn’t bring himself to just sit there and at this point there was only one thing he could think of to test the waters, “You know what you need?” Dean teased in his most charming voice.

“What?” Castiel asked suspiciously. 

“Some E. That’ll relax you, just like old times. I got a stash in the Impala, good shit too, I’ve been saving it for the right time.” 

Sam’s brows lifted, “Wait, you two used to get high together?”

“It was one time,” Castiel clarified. 

“Owe a lot to that one time…or I guess maybe you would’ve been better off without it, any of it.” It hurt to even say it, but Dean needed something, he needed a hint on where they stood…he needed to know how Castiel felt about their chapter all those years ago if they were going to have to be around each other all the time. Then at least he’d know how to talk to him. 

To Dean, that night was perfect, the serotonin was flooding his veins so hard that just looking at the stars and the lights reflected in the Chicago river made him feel connected to everything and everyone in the entire universe. The lasers above the dancefloor were warm fucking miracles tracing beautiful, unpredictable lines in the air, and nothing felt better than smooth skin, soft lips, and heavy bass. Their first kiss was on the bathroom floor of the warehouse by the river, the whole place was shaking with the dark jungle set of some north side DJ, and it was right after Dean had thrown up, but it was still fucking perfect. That one kiss, where he was rolling hard as balls, single-handedly wrecked everything Dean thought he was and everything he thought he wanted. But it was also the beginning that led to everything else. Of course, flashes of Cas’s bloody, unconscious body on the ground in the Impala’s side-mirror rushed through his mind, interrupting the better memories, but he shook it off. 

Castiel’s brows knitted in thought as the truck finally passed into the town. “Let’s take care of burying Jim first…then we can get the trailer and hit the sporting goods store.” 

The town graveyard was a decent size considering how small the place was, but it was a bit plain. There were several white crosses scattered around with some older stone graves mixed in, but it was clear how many of the graves were new. Castiel had planned it all out carefully and made sure that Jim was buried next to his wife and son in a spot that was more or less waiting for him. Considering how much death Castiel had probably faced in the army, Dean supposed this was his way of honoring them. They worked quickly, taking turns shoveling dirt and then put him in the ground as gently as they could. 

After a quiet moment of reverence, they headed through the empty streets and picked up a trailer, along with some spare tool kits from the local tow company, then went to the sporting goods store. Castiel had already cleared out a large portion of the store’s ammo, weaponry, medical supply kits, and camping gear, but there were still plenty of clothes to choose from. 

Dean looked through some thick winter coats while Castiel looked through the battery aisle near-by, “So, uh, how did you clear this place anyway? I mean, you and two kids against about a hundred walkers sounds a little crazy.”

Castiel smiled, not looking at him, “I was in special forces Dean, I know how to win a battle with very few men. Besides, Claire and Jack were quick studies. They followed orders and we took things little by little while relying primarily on stealth.”

Dean tried to imagine Castiel using military codes and leading the kids through the town, but all he could see was Claire marching down the middle of the street shouting at the walkers to come and get her. 

Once they were loaded up, they finished their run at the general store where they grabbed toiletries, blankets, some extra coolers, several boxes of hot chocolate mix, and liquor- that last item being primarily for Dean. Once they had everything they needed, they headed back up the mountain, attached the trailer to the truck, loaded up the Impala, and made for home. With all three of them being fairly experienced in the various arts of looting, towing, and jimmy rigging, the whole process was surprisingly smooth. 

“So, what are you going to do when you’ve completely sacked this place?” Dean asked curiously as they drove over a muddy dirt road back to the cottage. 

“Sack Grangeville, I suppose. There a lot of small towns just outside of the mountains, but for now, White Bird is enough. We have plenty of fishing and hunting spots nearby and the water is clean, I doubt we’ll ever go hungry…just maybe get less comfortable.” 

“What about other people? Jack and Claire must want to meet people their own age,” Sam added from his place in the back. 

Castiel bit his lip, this was clearly a sore spot for him, “I know that,” he paused, thinking it over carefully before continuing, “Sometimes I can’t tell if I’m being overprotective because of how everything is now or if it’s just…part of my own anxiety. I know we can’t stay like this forever…I don’t want them to have to live in isolation, but I want them to be safe and happy.”

“That makes sense. But, surely there have to be other people around? Maybe in some of those other towns you mentioned?” Sam asked, curiously.

“Maybe, we haven’t really ventured out much and so far, we haven’t had many people come through here…not living people anyway.”

“What about the ones that did come through?” Sam pressed.

“We…avoided them. Just to be safe…”

Dean shrugged, “Probably for the best, pretty much everyone that’s left is a piece of shit.”

“If you are any example of what’s left in the world, then, I’d agree,” Castiel said with a grin, grateful for an out from that conversation, and Dean looked at him, trying to hide his smile as he tried to look shocked. 

“Wow, Cas, thanks.”

Sam lifted a brow at the nickname that seemed to roll of his brother’s tongue and glanced over to see Castiel’s reaction. Cas smiled, “You are a piece of shit, Winchester…. but I guess, so am I. South-side trash through and through.” 

“Then cheers to that,” Dean lifted his now retrieved whiskey and took a swig of it. 

When they got back to the house, the kids took the brothers down to the cellar and showed them where all the supplies were kept. The basement was one massive room, possibly the size of the entire upstairs. It was also cold and moderately dark due to the small windows and cement walls. Still, from what Dean could see, the place was packed with metal racks filled with supplies. Everything seemed sectioned out into ‘food’, ‘medical supplies’, ‘weapons’, ‘other necessities’ like toiletries, gas, batteries, blankets etc. and ‘entertainment’ where Dean spotted towers of books, packs of cards, and stacks of board games. 

Looking around the food aisle curiously, Dean noticed a massive stock of sealed meals that could last for years and only needed to be boiled to prepare, “What’s up with all the astronaut food?” he asked Claire as he picked up one to look at it. 

“Those are only for special occasions, so keep your hands off ‘em,” Claire stated firmly as she lowered one of the boxes of new supplies to a metal table for sorting. 

Dean ignored her and kept looking at them, there were all kinds of flavors and foods ranging from curries and stews to sloppy joes and chili. His mouth started watering the more he looked at them, “Damn these actually look really good, where did you score these at?” 

Claire sighed and gave a dramatic eye roll, “You said you wanted to help, right? Stop snooping around, and come help.” 

Jack smiled sympathetically, “Father used to eat them in the army, and he never really learned to cook much beyond boiling instant noodles, so when he moved out here, he bought a large amount of them off Amazon.”

Dean glanced over to where Jack was sorting things on a separate aisle with Sam, “No kidding, gotta be at least a grand worth of this stuff.” 

“Yes, when Claire and I moved in, we took over the cooking, so they ended up sitting here unused.”

“Good thing too, with the world what it is, they are basically world class delicacies now. So, again, hands off, and come help, or just go back upstairs,” Claire reprimanded him. 

“Fine, fine, I’m helping,” Dean picked his box of supplies back up and set it next to Claire’s. They sorted things out into groups first, and then Claire had him follow her as they put things away. As they passed through yet another food aisle, Dean’s eyes widened at the sea of homemade preserves. 

“Wow, got enough jam?” Dean teased, and Claire gave a sarcastic smile back to him.

“Hardly, they make pretty great desserts when combined with snow. Especially yellow snow, if you can find it. Why don’t you go try it?”

“Oh, totally, sounds delicious.”

Jack sighed, “They are from our neighbors down in White Bird…many people made their own preserves with the fruits they grew in the spring and summer. Now that they are all gone…we…helped ourselves.”

“Ah…same go for all the jerky?”

“I made that. There is a lot to hunt around here,” Claire shrugged as she led him down the next aisle. Overall, it was easily more food than Dean had seen in a while, possibly ever considering his childhood kitchen usually didn’t have more than a case of beer, a box of cereal, some mac and cheese, and _maybe_ a jar of peanut butter in it at one time. 

Meanwhile, Jack noticed Sam admiring a can of tuna, “Do you like fish?”

Sam smiled, “Yeah, it’s been a while since I had any though.” 

“I can show you how to fish if you’d like. Fresh fish is a lot better than that stuff and this area has great fishing. White Bird Creek runs through town, and not too far out is the Salmon River, they have a bunch of boats in the canyon that we can borrow and plenty of extra fishing gear,” Jack offered, his eyes beaming with excitement.

“That sounds nice, Jack. Some actual fresh fish would be amazing,” Sam responded politely. 

Claire rolled her eyes playfully, “I’ll stick to traps and guns. Rabbits and deer are gamey, but it’s more fun than sitting around in a boat all day.” 

“You could always try spear fishing,” Castiel suggested as he came down the stairs to join them in the cellar. 

“Hmm, maybe in the summer, if you help me make spear,” Claire teased.

“We’ll see. In the meantime, I made some hot chocolate, if anyone is interested.”

“Yes!” Jack ran upstairs, and Claire grabbed a candy cane from a shelf labeled ‘candy’ and chased after him. 

Later that night, Sam played checkers with Jack while Castiel and Claire made dinner. Dean added the Impala’s supplies to the house, strategically placing weapons for emergencies, and locking up the heavier duty stuff where Claire wouldn’t be able to get to it. After dinner, Castiel showed Dean and Sam the trick to get the old hideaway bed out from the couch and made sure they were set up with everything they needed before heading to bed. 

As Dean curled up on his side of the bed, he couldn’t help but think about Castiel back in high school. Dean’s family was everything the rumors made them out to be and more. His father was in all kinds of underground businesses with the mob; he was a killer, a drunk, and a crazy old fuck. On top of all that, his father was in jail half the time, so Dean had to raise Sam more or less on his own and keep them both from being taken into the system- not that it always worked. Some of his father’s friends would help out once in a while, at least enough to bring them home when social services did come and take them; but, once Dean got into high school, they all bailed. They probably figured Dean could handle it by then. 

The more he had to do outside of school just to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads, the more school felt like a waste of time. He had liked it once, but having to spend most of his time there pushing drugs made it a lot less interesting. In his last year before he got expelled, he and Castiel had the same history class. They had had classes together periodically throughout their entire lives, but Dean hadn’t really paid him much attention until that history class. Castiel was a fucking Novak, south-side born and raised, neglected, and probably as fucked up as Dean was himself, but somehow the asshole knew the answers to every fucking question. It wasn’t Castiel’s fault how shitty Dean’s life was…but he took it out on him anyway. 

It started small: messing with him in class, taking his things, writing shit about him in the bathroom: middle school flirting, basically, because Dean was just that mature. Then one day, when things were worse than usual, he lost it. His dad had gotten back from jail only to find out that a close friend of his had died while he was away. He immediately decided to get as drunk as possible in his friend’s honor- and whenever his father got drunk, things only ended one way. 

When Dean went to school the next day, he had a fat lip, a black eye, bloody knuckles, and a recently relocated shoulder, and that was only the visible stuff. The words were the worst part of fighting with his dad. No matter how hard he tried, no matter what he did, he was never good enough for his father. He was a mistake, an embarrassment, he ruined his father’s life, his dead mother would hate him and be ashamed of him…those were the kinds of things his father would taunt him with, and what made them even more powerful was that Dean honestly believed every word. There was something about his father’s eyes when he said those things, something violent and honest. How could he not believe? At least, if Dean took the hits and the anger, Sammy wouldn’t have to, it made it all worth it...more or less. By morning, his father would have forgotten all of it anyway. Even when Dean was covered in battle wounds, John would never admit to what he’d done or what he’d said the night before, so Dean was left to carry it alone. 

That day, he was not ready to see Castiel enjoying his fucking life and knowing all those damn answers about ancient fucking China. All of his frustration, all of his anger and pain, all of that pent of rage about how life wasn’t fair and how tired he was of trying so damn hard just to fail all the time, all of it went straight into his fists, and then straight into Castiel’s face. He had jumped him on the way home, and that was probably the first time they had been alone together. 

Advantage from surprise or not, Castiel didn’t go down easy. Not that time anyway. They were nearly evenly matched, and by the end of it, they were both on the ground, gasping for air with blood splayed in webs over their faces. That day made him respect Castiel.


	5. Truth Comes in Various Flavors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fishing trip leads to a new discovery.

A few days later, the group crammed themselves into Cas’s truck and headed down the mountain, through the valley, and out towards the Salmon river for a day of fishing. The snow had finally stopped, though the thick grey clouds above threatened to start again at any moment. 

Sam looked out the small back window at the large open fields surrounding the town; they were still covered in thick layers of untouched snow and the stillness of it all felt strangely comforting. Sam imagined that despite it being the end of the world, this wasn’t so different from how this place had probably been before: quiet, natural, and peaceful. He could understand why Castiel had come out here, it was everything the south side of Chicago wasn’t. It was safe, beautiful, and tranquil. Sam had always wanted to come out west, not that he could ever say that to his family…the Winchester roots grew deep in the south side. In fact, he knew that if things hadn’t fallen apart the way they did, there was probably no way he would have been able to get out of there at all. Still, it didn’t feel right to be happy about the apocalypse. 

After a short drive, Castiel pulled up next to a large dock on one of the widest parts of the river where several boats were housed, including some hideously turquoise canyon tour boats that looked like they had been frozen in time since the 80’s. The river itself was a beautiful dark blue with a somewhat quick current and a mysterious depth. The near constant snow had clearly made the river rise, causing it to nearly swallow the small beach adjacent to the dock. 

When Sam got out of the cramped back seat of the truck, he stretched his arms high up above his head and took in a deep breath of the cold, crisp air, catching the fresh scent of the river. Jack hopped out after him, barely able to contain himself, “This is going to be so great! Let’s go to the gear shop first, we have a lot of stuff to get you guys before we can head out!” Jack had been practically bouncing with energy all day. It had been a long time since Sam had seen anyone this excited about anything. It filled him with a strong sense of hope and he couldn’t help but start to feel excited too, even though he hadn’t really ever had any interest in fishing. 

The group followed Jack to the riverside gear shop to make sure Dean and Sam had everything they needed for the day. Jack helped them pick out fishing gear by explaining everything as they went aisle to aisle while Claire kept a watchful eye out for trouble near the door. Meanwhile, Castiel grabbed everything they might need to replenish their own tackleboxes. 

Once they had everything, Jack hurried out to the dock, and looked over each boat carefully, trying to pick one to use for the day while Castiel sat in the bed of his truck double checking the tackle boxes and gear to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything important. Sam sat on a large boulder bordering the parking lot as he scanned a pamphlet about the Salmon River and Hell’s Gate. Dean sat beside him on his own rock, mostly staring at Castiel while pretending to sharpen his hunting knife. 

Claire came up behind them and gently kicked Dean in the side, “Come check the perimeter with me. We haven’t totally cleared this area.”

“Huh? Sure. No need to kick me though, brat.” Claire shrugged and headed off. Sam gave Dean an understanding smile and watched them go. 

Claire led Dean around the area with her gun at the ready, her eyes searching each shop and corner they passed by, “Why do you keep staring at Cas like that?”

“Like what?”

“You know what I’m talking about. Knock it the hell off. I don’t know what is up with you guys, but he’s been extra stressed out since you showed up, like way more than usual. Just, stay away from him ok?”

“Is this one of those, ‘You hurt him and I’ll kill you’ speeches?’” Dean asked with a teasing grin. 

“It’s a fuck off speech.” 

“Same shit. Listen, kid, me and Cas go way back, things just…didn’t end up that great. I don’t want him stressed, if he wants us out, we’ll leave.”

“He wants you out.” 

“Then he can tell me that himself.”

“No, he really can’t. Look it’s my job to take care of him…he’s…fragile. If you give a shit, you should take off. It’s not like you are planning to stay once the snow melts anyway, right? Why bother staying and messing with him like this if you are just gonna leave?”

“I’m not messing with him. We’re…just getting to know each other again. That’s all.”

“I’m not an idiot. You clearly wanna jump his bones.”

“Excuse me? The fuck do you know.”

“You are so gross and obvious, so I know plenty. I’m being serious, stay away from him. You don’t need him, but we do.”

Dean looked away, he had never really done anything good for Castiel anyway. Cas suffered plenty at his hands already, maybe the kid was right. He was here trying to reconnect, but clearly Castiel didn’t want or need that…but…

Dean didn’t really have many vivid memories of all the parties he went to in his youth, but he remembered that moment, right before they kissed, like it happened yesterday. He remembered Castiel cupping his face, staring him in the eyes and saying, “You are a good man, Dean.” Then came the kiss. It was so soft and gentle the first time…it didn’t stay that way, of course, not even that first night, but that one moment was probably the only time in his whole pathetic life that he ever felt worthy of anything. Although, Dean supposed he proved unworthy in the end. 

“You get me, Winchester?” Claire prodded, pulling him back to the present.

“Yeah, I get you. You got nothing to worry about. I’m not here to start anything. Just stopping to get me and my brother back on our feet, then we’ll take off.” 

“Good.” 

“Dad? This one is huge! Can we take it?” Jack called out, catching Claire and Dean’s attention as well. Claire sighed hiding a fond smile with forced faux irritation. 

“Sure, Jack, that one should be fine,” Castiel called back with a wave. 

“Maybe we’ll find some other supplies to take while we are in there, too!” Jack grinned and raced up into the boat while Castiel and Sam started bringing the gear over. 

They were halfway to the boat when they heard Jack scream. Castiel immediately dropped everything and sprinted towards the large boat with Sam quickly following. From their place on the dock, they couldn’t see Jack at all. Cas cursed under his breath as he ran, his fear rising with every step as he rushed towards the boat.

When Cas got up into the boat, he saw Jack clumsily pushing a walker away. It was a woman, and her jaw was snapping desperately as she ambled towards him with her arms out stretched. Castiel immediately pulled a knife from his belt, rushed forward, and pulled her arm to get her attention off of Jack. Right as she turned to face him, he slammed his knife through her temple. Castiel didn’t breathe until she was on the ground and still, then he looked over at Jack who was trying to steady his own breathing. Claire, Sam, and Dean had made their way up into the boat at this point as well. 

“Jack, are you ok? You weren’t bitten, were you?” Castiel asked as he frantically looked Jack over. 

“No…I’m fine.”

“You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Claire scolded as she lightly punched her brother in the arm. 

“Sorry. That’s Sally isn’t it?” Jack asked, still staring at her, and Castiel nodded, pulling Jack into a half hug, kissing the top of his head, just to remind himself that Jack was ok. Jack leaned into the embrace, “That means, we almost found everyone…” 

Castiel looked down at him with worry, “Jack, do you want to find a different boat while I take Sally over to the truck?” 

Jack finally pulled his eyes from her. “No, this is a good boat, we shouldn’t waste it over something like this.”

“Cas, do you need help carrying her?” Dean offered.

“No, I’d rather you and Sam help Jack in here, just in case. Claire?”

“On it,” Claire set down her rifle and picked up Sally’s legs while Castiel took her shoulders. They moved her to the edge of the boat and then used some rope to lower her gently to the dock before following her down to take her to the truck while Sam, Dean, and Jack looked for supplies. 

Sam stayed close to Jack, just in case another walker popped up. Jack grinned as he looked around, “I like boats. When the summer hits I’m going to come fishing every day.”

“That sounds like a great plan,” Sam encouraged as he looked around the boat, completely unsure of what to look for. When he thought about it, he realized, this was his first time on a boat. 

Dean grinned when his eyes landed on a small kitchen area below deck. “What do we have here?” He looked around through the cabinets and found several bottles of chardonnay, a bottle of what looked to be expensive Gin from Seattle, a bottle of champagne, a portable propane grill, tons of spices that all seemed to be geared towards cooking fish, instant mashed potato packets, ironically made with “Idaho Potatoes,” pasta noodles, canned pasta sauce, and packets of brown gravy mix. A lot of what was in the mini-fridge was practically growing tiny mold cities, but he found some unopened sodas to salvage. 

When Dean moved into the sitting area, he saw all kinds of interesting decorations on the walls; there were pirate hats, seashells, and trophy fish mounted on plaques, but the one thing that caught his eye the most was a sword hanging above the door leading outside. It looked like a replica of something from a movie or a video game, but he pulled it off the wall anyway. It wasn’t sharp, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be, it felt sturdy enough for use. He gave it a few experimental swings, grinning like an idiot, “En garde, walker scum.” He slashed at invisible enemies and swung around, sweeping the sword against the air. 

“Having fun?” Sam asked and Dean instantly jumped and put the sword down, “Oh, uh, what? I found a sword. Pretty sweet right?”

Sam smirked, “Yeah, sure. Jack found some pretty good emergency supplies, some more fishing gear too, looks like this was a good haul and we haven’t even started fishing.”

“That’s good then, I’m kinda doubting this whole fishing process anyway.”

Sam shrugged, “Yeah, I mean, apparently Jack is the one that taught Cas, so it’s all up to just how good he is I guess.”

“Great. Might as well put the propane grill back then, huh?”

“Show a little optimism, Jack and Claire have been perfectly capable at just about everything we’ve seen them do so far.”

“Yeah, I guess. Come on, let’s do one more sweep.”

By the time Cas and Claire came back, Jack had found a spare set of keys and got the boat running. Everyone got their lifejackets on, got geared up, and took the boat out into the river. They found a spot to lay anchor and released their lines. The cold wind bit at their faces, but their new coats and under layers kept them warm. Claire tried to fish for about 10 minutes before she gave up in a huff, “I do not understand how you can like this. It’s so boring.”

“Let’s hear you say that when we get to eat salmon tonight.” Jack said with a grin.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Hey brat, if you need something to do, you can go sharpen that sword in there, probably gonna take a while, might as well get started on it.”

“Wait, did you just say sword?!” Claire’s eyes widened with excitement and the others laughed.

“Cover me?” Dean asked Sam, motioning to his fishing rod. Sam nodded, and Dean got up to follow her into the boat. 

“Just be careful, ok?” Castiel called out and Dean waved him off as they disappeared inside.

Sam started pulling Dean’s line back in, “Yeah, he’s not coming back.” 

“He hasn’t changed much, has he?” Castiel asked with a sigh. 

Sam shrugged, “He has in some ways. He’s calmed down a lot.”

“I suppose I can see that. I’m sure being away from your father has had a hand in it.” 

“Dad, how did you and Dean know each other?” Jack asked looking over at Castiel curiously, tilting his head and squinting a bit, and in that moment Sam could have sworn Castiel was Jack’s real father. 

“We went to school together for a while.”

“Oh, were you friends?” 

“Something like that.” Sam listened and couldn’t help but wonder. Maybe, if Dean wouldn’t tell him, Cas would. 

“What does that mean?”

“It means, we were in the same classes a lot and eventually we became friends…but then some things happened, and we didn’t get to see each other for a long time.”

“Oh,” Jack finally left it alone at that. 

“Do you ever miss it?” Sam asked curiously and Castiel looked at him with the same confused look Jack had had a moment ago. “The south side I mean…have you ever thought about going back? Maybe trying to find your family?”

Castiel stared into the water with an intensity most couldn’t harbor, “I…could not put Jack and Claire in danger like that. I imagine the place is overrun, there is likely nothing to go back to…no one to find.”

Sam nodded, “Last we saw of it, Chicago was practically on fire, but the south side lasted the longest. Probably because of all the guns and, well, the people.”

“When did you leave?”

“About half a year ago. People had set up some barriers around the neighborhood, we had people on watch all the time, didn’t let in strangers, went on runs to the northside, honestly, it was working out for a while. People used to joke we were better off after the world ended.” Castiel smiled at that as Sam continued, “Dean and I were in and out of the city trying to find dad, pretty much since the beginning. We did runs on the way, pulled our weight for the community, but it wasn’t long after the city fell that weird things started happening. There were all kinds of groups forming outside the city. Some were ruled by crazy guys calling themselves kings and some groups were eating people. It was starting to get to the point that running into people was just as bad as running into walkers…sometimes worse even. One day, one of those groups came for everything we had…it turned into this all-out war. Dean and I didn’t really want any part of it, we still fought of course, but when everything started to fall apart…we bailed. Been on the run ever since.”

Castiel listened quietly, silently debating with himself until he could no longer bear it, “I’ve been afraid to ask about my family, but…were…any of my siblings there? In this…camp you made?” His voice was barely above a whisper and his brows were knitted together. 

Sam nodded, pursing his lips, “Yeah, Michael was the only doctor in the place, so needless to say he was pretty important. Then, I saw Samandriel sometimes, he would go on runs with some of the other guys from the neighborhood…as for Anna, Hannah, and Balthazar…I don’t know what happened to them, but I never really saw them at the camp.” 

Castiel’s eyes seemed to cloud over and Jack looked over at him with worry. Castiel didn’t say anything, but he was clearly heartbroken. Sam wished he could say anything else, but everyone deserved to know the truth about their family. Sam would give just about anything to know if their dad was alive or not, if for no other reason than to just finally know. 

The three stayed there, fishing for hours, trying to keep to lighter topics after that. In the end, Jack managed to catch a decent sized steelhead and Sam picked up a small salmon. Dean fired up the propane grill and they ate in the kitchen of the boat. Sam popped open a bottle of wine for the adults, while the kids got the sodas. In the boat, it almost felt like they were in some kind of alternate universe where the world hadn’t ended and they hadn’t been poor as shit. Dean could almost imagine they were just some middle-class assholes waiting to see fireworks over the Chicago river for New Years. 

In one of the cupboards, Jack had found a Harry Potter themed chess set and was playing with Castiel while Sam relaxed in a large recliner, sipping his wine and watching the water. Claire had gone back to sharpening the sword, talking about how she was going to become like someone named Michonne from some show she used to watch. It was strangely peaceful, and Dean knew that it was because of Castiel. He made the kids feel safe, hell he made Dean feel safe- not physically or anything, but just, like Dean could be whoever the hell he wanted to be and Castiel wouldn’t judge him. He could never do that with anyone else. Even Sam expected certain things from him. Sometimes, Dean even suspected that Sam expected him to be like their dad…which considering how his 20’s played out, was more than fair. But Castiel was the only one who ever got to see his truth. Not that Dean necessarily knew what “his truth” was, he definitely couldn’t put it into words, but Castiel had brought something out in him, something good that he could never get back afterwards. 

On the bathroom floor of the warehouse, after he had thrown up, Dean leaned against the tiled wall with Castiel sitting across from him, their feet knocking playfully as people stepped over their legs to get to the urinals. “You don’t have to be here, you know. I’ll be fine. Go dance, have fun. You deserve it, Novak, you work too damn hard all the time,” Dean was slurring and grinding his teeth at that point.

Castiel smiled, “Trust me, Winchester, if I wanted to leave you, I would, but someone has to make sure you don’t get yourself into any trouble.” Dean laughed at the idea of trouble, his whole fucking life was trouble. The more he thought about it, the more it hurt, and soon that laughter turned into broken sobs as every bit of his wall that he had built up around himself came crumbling down. 

Ecstasy was originally designed to be a therapy drug, which made sense because once you take it, you can’t shut up and you can’t really lie. It turns you into a child that wants to touch every soft thing, stare at everything shiny, and tell everyone everything because while you are on it, the world is perfect, and everyone is good. So, needless to say, when Dean broke down, he broke down hard.

Dean sniffled, looking down at the dirty bathroom floor as tears ran down his cheeks, “You don’t know trouble, Cas. You don’t know me or the shit I’ve done. You don’t know my family. I’m fucking worthless, you seriously shouldn’t be wasting your time on me. I can barely keep my shit together, I’m a fucking wreck.”

Castiel bumped his foot against Dean’s, pulling Dean’s attention back up to him, “So am I, so is my family, Dean, none of this shit that gets flung on us is our fault. We are just doing what we have to, to survive.” 

“Not for me, only for Sammy. I’ve done everything I can, Cas. I take it all, so he doesn’t have to. I take the hits, I take…the jobs. I sell whatever I have to: drugs, guns, myself…I have nothing left, you shouldn’t be here with me...I’m not a good person, Cas. Even my own father fucking hates me. I’m an idiot who is going fucking nowhere. My dad? This shithole? That’s my future. Don’t waste your time, just go.”

Castiel looked him over curiously and Dean wondered if it was enough, if knowing the truth, Cas would leave like everyone else did. Instead, Castiel slid closer, moving in between his legs, and looked into his eyes for a long moment, almost like he was looking into his soul. Then, finally, he smiled. With Cas there was no judgement, no cruelty, just love and respect. No one had ever given him that before. 

By the end of the night, Dean was in Castiel’s lap in a dark corner of the club, unable to detach from him, kissing him deeply, grinding hard against him, and repeating over and over again, “I love you.” 

Of course, that naïve desperation ended the next morning when Dean was so messed up that during his morning shower, he put his shampoo on his chest and only realized something was wrong because it felt cold. He may or may not have also thought his bed was a giant marshmallow…but that was never to be spoken of. 

Once he had eaten and finally felt somewhat awake, Dean had gone to the Novak house down the block to look for Castiel. On his way there, he had every intention of beating the shit out of him, threatening him into keeping last night a secret, and explaining that he was just high and everything he said and did was in no way a reflection of who he actually was. He just needed some action and Cas happened to be there; he wasn’t gay or a little whiny bitch. He was a tough, south-side, gangster. 

Of course, when Castiel came to the door in his hand-me-down hoodie and ripped flannel pajama pants, with an exhausted, but beautiful smile, and those big bright eyes that genuinely looked happy to see him, Dean couldn’t resist. It was a whirlwind from that moment to the end. 

After their meal, Castiel, Sam, Dean, Claire, and Jack headed back to the docks, loaded everything into the truck and headed back into town to bury Sally. 

While they were giving her a final moment of silence, Castiel heard something that made him tense up. He looked towards the noise, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Sounded like a car,” Dean whispered, picking up on the noise as well. 

“People?” Jack asked excitedly and Castiel nodded, “Sounds like it…”

“What do we do?” Claire asked, pulling her rifle a bit closer. 

Castiel thought about it for a moment, hearing the vehicle in the distance again as he tried to sort out the difference between his feelings and what he knew was right. 

Finally, he looked up, clearly working to steel himself, “We should take this opportunity to go meet them.” 

“Hold up Cas, didn’t we talk about how horrible most of the people we’ve run into are, we can’t just go jumping into this,” Dean responded, and Claire nodded in agreement.

“Yes, of course we should be careful, but we should also give them the benefit of the doubt. We won’t know what kind of people they are until we meet them. Maybe they are just looking for a place to be safe, just like you two were. Besides, not many people come through here, we might not get the chance to meet anyone else for months and…we can’t just hide in the mountains alone forever. Who knows? Maybe these people need help. We are in a position where we can help others, so it’s our duty to at least try.” 

Sam gave a confident smile, “I think we should try too. It’s just like Castiel said, we’ll be careful, Dean, but this is the right thing to do.” Cas looked grateful for the support. 

“So…we just go say hi or something?” Claire asked curiously.

“No, you and Jack should head back to the cabin.”

“Wait, what? Why?” Claire demanded and Castiel put a hand on her shoulder.

“Because it might not be safe. Once we know for sure they are good people, then you can meet them.”

“That’s bullshit, you, me, and Jack cleared this entire town. We can handle ourselves.”

“Against walkers, but not people.”

“We’ll be fine, plus, maybe they’ll trust you more easily if they see you have us with you. We can totally play the happy family with kids card.” 

Castiel looked over at Dean for support, but Dean just shrugged, “We were fighting off worse at her age.”

“That isn’t the point.”

“Then how about the fact that we need the back up.”

Castiel was beginning to feel his anxiety creeping up on him, like a stranger following closely behind him down an empty street at night, but he tried to ignore it. He knew this was the right thing to do and he didn’t want his children growing up afraid of the world. He himself didn’t want to be afraid anymore. With Dean here, he was reminded of just how much of himself he’d lost during the war. More than anything, the fear made him want to just drive them back to the cabin and wait for the strangers to leave, but he couldn’t keep doing that, he couldn’t shield his family from the world forever, he needed to be willing to take risks again, and this was as good a time as any, “Fine, we all go.


	6. Guess we can't just blame the end of the world...people have always been terrible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group goes to meet other survivors.

They found two vehicles, both clearly modified with random parts stuck together to create Frankenstein cars with loud engines, mismatched doors, and massive spikes coming out from the bottom. 

“Wow…they definitely look friendly,” Claire said sarcastically from the backseat of Cas’s truck. They watched as the group went into an old gas station to raid the place, it looked to be a group of two men and one woman. They carried axes and machetes, but didn’t seem to have any guns. 

“You said there were a bunch of little towns around here, right? Maybe they came from one of them,” Deans started.

“They have some pretty thick chains on the tires and I bet all those spikes weigh their cars down, I guess maybe they could have made it through the mountains, right Castiel?” Sam added. 

Castiel was gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles went white and he could feel his throat tightening like he was being choked. This group wasn’t what he had expected. Castiel was expecting some poor family, half starving from their trip through the mountains, desperate and lost. These people looked clean and well fed…that meant they had a home and if they were scavenging here, then their home couldn’t be far. This could be a good opportunity to get intel on the surrounding area, maybe even make some trading allies, if nothing else. Still, even with all of the positive possibilities, he couldn’t stop his anxiety from giving him a deep feeling of foreboding, “Possibly, yes.” 

“Well, either way, if we are doing this, let’s get to it. It’s time to go introduce ourselves, right?” Dean suggested with a charming grin. Jack was practically bouncing in his seat, but Claire looked wary. Dean swatted her knee to get her attention, “But hey, we are taking the guns just in case. We are playing this smart, all right? So, keep your eyes open.” Claire nodded and watched as Dean opened the door to hop out. The rest of the group followed. They grabbed weapons from the back of the truck and headed down the street towards the gas station. Castiel looked around cautiously, checking to see if there were any other new vehicles in the area. His hands were starting to feel sweaty and his breath was slowly starting to quicken. Something felt wrong, yet familiar, and definitely dangerous…almost like an ambush. 

The group waited outside the gas station and eventually the first person came out, his arms were full of Twinkie boxes. 

“Those are probably expired you know, if you want something sweet, the hard candy is a safer bet,” Jack greeted with a bright, excited smile, clearly trying to be friendly and helpful.

The man looked at him with a furrowed brow before calling for his friends, “Hey, we got some guests out here!” He turned back to the group and eyed their weapons, “What do you want?”

“We saw you guys in the area, so we thought we’d come say hi,” Dean offered with a well-practiced polite, yet slightly threatening smile, the kind he used when he went to collect debts. 

The man’s two friends joined him, each carrying something from the store, “Uh, what the hell is going on here?” The woman asked quietly, the man shrugged in response.

“The snow has been pretty heavy, it must have been difficult to get here, which direction did you come from?” Castiel asked and the three looked at one another as if silently communicating.

“North, what about you?” the woman asked.

“We live-“Jack started and Claire elbowed him. 

“We are just waiting out the snow,” Dean said with a shrug. 

“Gonna be waiting a while then, you set up a place here?” The second man asked, his eyes lingering on Claire with a blatant hunger. Claire grimaced and held her rifle a little tighter. 

“By the river,” Sam lied and stepped slightly in front of Claire. 

The first man grinned, “We’d love to rest for a bit, maybe we could get to know each other over lunch? No better way to make friends than to share a meal, right?”

The woman nodded, “You have any food?”

Dean could already see where this was going, he glanced back at Castiel and noticed that Castiel was starting to breath a bit heavy and his eyes were darting around nervously. 

“Cas?” Dean whispered with worry.

“Listen,” Cas whispered. Dean went quiet, then he heard what had Castiel so spooked: he could hear more vehicles nearby. 

“Shit, let’s go,” Dean lifted his gun at the group, “Okay weirdos, get the fuck back in the store, you have 3 seconds before I start shooting and let me fucking warn you, I am a DAMN good shot.” 

The other vehicles got closer and seemed to be coming from different directions. Claire pulled her rifle up, turning around, looking for them. Jack moved closer to Castiel as the group backed up moving in the direction of the truck. 

“Aw, now why don’t you want to stay? I thought you came over to say hi? It’s rude to just leave in the middle of a conversation, ain’t it?” The woman called out as she dropped the boxes in her arms and pulled a gun from inside her jacket. She didn’t warn, she didn’t hesitate or aim, she just started firing. After the second shot, Jack gave out a cry as he crumbled to the ground. 

“Jack!” Cas shouted turning to him and squatting down to assess the damage as Dean and Claire began firing back. A pool of blood was already soaking through Jack’s pants where the bullet had caught him in the thigh. The coppery smell and the striking color of the blood forced memories to flash through Cas’s mind and the ringing of gunshots all around him started to make the place feel just like a warzone. Still, above all the chaos, he could swear that he heard the roar of the vehicles coming closer more clearly than he could hear the cacophony of gunshots. Their engines growled like wild animals circling closer to their prey. 

Jack looked at Castiel in desperation, a look he had seen so many times before…he could see his comrades in the street all around them, each with arms or legs missing, their faces pleading for help, even though deep down they knew the situation was hopeless. He heard their frantic screams of pain like a chorus with Jack’s and panic began to rush through every part of him. He grabbed his head, his throat felt so tight he could barely breath as he gasped for air. He failed so many people, and now he had failed Jack. 

“Cas?!” Dean shouted as he unloaded on the three by the door, killing two while the third ran into the gas station for cover. “Shit, Sam, get the truck, I got Jack, Claire can you help Cas?”

Claire nodded, her eyes wide as she approached him, being careful not to touch him, “Cas, we have to go, just breath ok? Breath and walk with me.” Castiel nodded, still gasping for air as she counted their breathing and matched it to their steps. Sam ran down the street towards the truck while Dean picked Jack up and started running towards the truck, repeating encouragement as he went. 

Another car covered in spikes turned a corner and picked up speed, racing towards them, Claire got her rifle up and started shooting. “Claire, just move your ass!” Dean shouted as Sam started the truck. 

The driver of the spiked car began shooting as he turned towards the gas station, raining bullet after bullet along their path as he moved passed them. Claire gasped as one hit the ground in front of her. 

Sam frantically started the truck and floored it over to them. Claire opened the passenger door and helped Dean put Jack in the back before climbing in after him. Dean joined them and instantly went to work tearing off his coat and then ripping off his shirt sleeve to use as he put pressure on the gunshot. Castiel climbed in the passenger seat, his mind still reeling as Sam flipped the truck around and raced off. 

Sam watched the rear-view mirror as the man hiding in the gas station climbed into the car with the other shooter. Before they could move out, he turned the truck down a smaller road to get out of their line of sight. He took several more turns, but the town was far too small to truly lose anyone especially with multiple unknown targets. He drove fast towards the mountain, hoping their head-start would be enough. His eyes flickered between the rear-view mirror and what was ahead of them and every now and then he would get a glimpse of other vehicles in his peripheral vision, just a street away. His heart was caught in his throat as he waited, expecting them to pop up behind him or in front of him any moment. 

In the backseat, Jack was groaning and trying to stifle his screams as Dean continued to apply pressure to try and slow the bleeding. “Come on Jack, it’s gonna be fine. I’ve been shot loads of times. Hell, I bet even Cas has.”

“Oh my god, just shut up! Jack, it’s gonna be fine, we’ll be home soon, ok?” Claire said as she pushed the hair from his forehead where the sweat made it stick to his skin. He nodded and leaned into her touch.

“Dad?” Jack called desperately. 

Castiel was still breathing hard, his head in his hands, but between breaths he managed to give a quiet reply, “I’m here…I’m here…”

Soon they reached the end of the town and Sam began heading up the mountain. He knew there wouldn’t be any cover as they went up. Of course, there was no fog and snow when they needed it, Sam thought bitterly. If the vehicles wanted to hunt them down, it would be easy. Sam held his breath and waited, but nothing came and soon they were high up enough they didn’t have to worry about being visible in the valley. 

The moment they got home, everything was a blur of action, Sam opened the door and threw everything off the table while Claire went to get their medical supplies. Dean set Jack down and used his hunting knife to cut the leg off of his pants. Being back home was helping Castiel finally get a hold of himself, but he still couldn’t do much other than stay out of the way. 

“We need to get the bullet out, stitch him up, cover it with some bandages, and boom he’ll be right as rain. Sam, Cas, I need you two to hold him down. Claire, you are gonna get me whatever the hell I ask you for, got it?” Sam and Claire quickly responded and got in position. Dean looked over at Cas, “Cas!”

“Right,” Castiel responded and moved forward. He worked together with Sam to hold Jack down. Claire, following orders, gave Jack a leather belt to bite down on.

“Here we go kid…”

The whole operation was messy and south-side quality, but it was enough to get the job done. By the end of it, Jack was given some pain killers and put in bed. Claire and Dean sat on the porch, waiting and watching to see if anyone followed them. Meanwhile, Castiel and Sam cleaned up the kitchen, trying to sanitize the area the best they could. 

Sam stole small glances at Castiel. The man’s brows were tightly furrowed as he stared at the table that only an hour before had been covered with his god-son’s blood. “Are you ok?” 

Castiel looked up, “Huh? Oh…I suppose. I just feel a bit guilty. I don’t know what I was thinking bringing the kids to meet strangers like that. Maybe…maybe I was wrong. Maybe it’s not worth the risk trying to talk to anyone anymore.”

“No, Castiel, you were right in trying. If we all give up, then we are all just going to die alone…the whole human race would eventually just end. Society may never go back to being what it was, but people will always need each other. We got unlucky this time, but that doesn’t mean we stop trying. We can’t let the few assholes in the world ruin the rest of it for us.” 

“I’m surprised a Winchester can say that.” Sam looked up confused and Castiel continued, “With your father…being what he was.”

Sam nodded in understanding, “Yeah, I mean, I saw a lot of bad growing up. Dean tried to hide it from me, but it’s kinda hard to ignore when your dad is naked in the backyard burning his blood stained clothes, or leaving pounds of cocaine on the coffee table, or making you help wipe prints off guns….but I knew that for just as much evil as there was in the world, there was that much good too.”

“Do you still believe that? The world being what it is now?”

Sam didn’t hesitate, “Yes. I know that to survive people have to fight now, they have to kill and steal and do a lot of things they may have never thought they were capable of, but that doesn’t mean they’ve all lost who they were. Most people are just scared and trying to find a way to live, that doesn’t make them evil. Even those people earlier today, they were clearly just hungry and scared.” 

“So, you don’t think they will be back then?”

“I don’t know. They saw our guns…if they are desperate enough they’ll come. Maybe for revenge, maybe for supplies…the only way they won’t come back is if they think the payout won’t be worth the risk.”

“Then, we need to figure out how desperate they are. We won’t be able to feel safe again until we settle this…we’ll always be looking over our shoulders, wondering when they will find us…that’s not living. I won’t put Jack and Claire through that.” 

Sam studied Castiel’s face for a moment, but he remained silent, he knew Castiel was right, but it would mean a fight against who knew what kind of odds, and if today was any indication, he and Dean were the only ones actually up for it. 

Later that night, after some insisting, Castiel finally got Claire to agree to go to sleep. Dean decided to stay on watch for a few hours, after which point he would switch off with Sam until dawn. 

Dean was watching the driveway and considering how they could hide it better from the highway when Castiel came out and took a seat next to him on the porch.

Dean looked him over for a moment before he finally figured out something to say to break the silence, “The kids ok?” 

Castiel nodded, “They are asleep, anyway.”

Dean paused thinking about how Castiel had broken down earlier, he wasn’t sure how Cas would react, but he had to ask, “Are you ok?”

Castiel looked up at the sky, it was clear, and Orion’s belt was shining bright up above them, “Yes, given the circumstances.” 

Dean knew better then to keep pestering him, so he went back to watching for movement, but the air was thick between them and he couldn’t think or focus on anything but Castiel’s presence. He just waited, wishing he had brought a bottle of whiskey with him to ease the tension. 

After a long few moments, it was Castiel that finally spoke, “Dean, what happened?”

“Huh? Today?”

“No. What happened after he caught us?” 

Dean looked over at Castiel, but Castiel wouldn’t meet his eyes. This was the conversation he had been dreading since finding him again, but he had known it was coming, how could it not? Even after so long, some things couldn’t just be forgotten and buried. He still remembered every fucking detail of when his father caught them together; it was that moment that everything fell apart. 

His dad had been in jail for breaking his parole for what must have been the 50th time and Sam was at the library all day for some school project, so they took advantage of the empty house and watched movies in the living room. They only had John Winchester’s cheap, old VHS tapes from the bargain bin, so nothing could really hold their attention. It wasn’t long before they were lazily making out, then languidly rocking together on the ripped-up, junkyard sofa that Dean was sure was older than him. 

They took their time, undressing each other piece by piece, but soon Cas was buried deep inside him, grinding him into the sofa with long, slow strokes while Dean playfully licked and sucked on Cas’s tongue and bit at his lips, both of them laughing lightly into the kiss. After months together, Castiel knew right where to hit him to make him moan, even going slow, he quickly had Dean clawing and clinging to him in desperation.

“So good, Cas,” Dean moaned, his voice cracking a bit as Castiel took a hold of his length and gave it a few teasing strokes. 

That’s when they heard it. 

The sound of keys. 

They both froze, as John Winchester shoved his way in the door with a case of beer in his arms. The minute he spotted them, his eyes went wide, “The fuck is going on? You’re letting some fucking faggot Novak fuck you? My goddamn son?” 

Dean knew the rage in his eyes, he knew what was coming. He tried to push Cas off and behind him as they stumbled off the couch, but John dropped the case and was on them immediately. He shoved Dean out of the way, knocking him to the ground, and jumped on Castiel. John wailed on the boy, punching him in the face repeatedly while Cas choked on his own blood, his hands trying to block the hits. Dean managed to stumble back up and jump on his father’s back, pulling him off, only to get thrown back onto the sofa where John moved to beat on him next. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” John screamed as he hit Dean so hard one of his teeth went loose. Cas tried to pull him off, and that’s when John pulled a gun on him. “Sit the fuck down, faggot.” Castiel’s eyes went wide as he stumbled, moving to sit down on a pile of boxes in the corner. 

“Don’t…” Dean finally whimpered, blood spurting from his mouth, as his hand shakily pawed at the gun.

“Shut your fucking mouth, you don’t get to talk,” John shouted before whipping the pistol across Dean’s head, he was so dizzy he couldn’t move, he could barely see. 

John got off Dean and threw some boxers at him, at that point Dean wasn’t even sure if they were his own or Castiel’s. He scrambled to put them on and looked over at Castiel who’s chest was covered in the blood gushing from his twisted, broken nose. John’s eyes squared on Dean, “You are gonna beat the fucking gay outta that boy or I’m gonna shoot him in the head and throw him in the goddamn river.” 

Dean looked at his father in shock, waiting and hoping he might change his mind, but when the gun went back towards Castiel, Dean took a wobbly step forward. Castiel silently mouthed, “It’s ok.”

Dean started punching him, his tears fell onto Castiel’s cheeks. Cas didn’t even fight back, crazy fucker still looked at Dean with love and sympathy as Dean hit him. John caught on fast that Dean was pulling his punches, and that’s when he got a bit more involved. He told Dean what to do, step by step, like he was preparing him for any future beat downs. Dean followed the directions and kicked Castiel in the ribs, then under his chin, knocking his teeth together as his head flung backwards. Any hit that Dean held back, John would deliver and then make Dean repeat. He made Dean choke him for what felt like several long minutes until Castiel was gasping for air and going pale. Then, at the end of it, he made Dean knock him out with a beer bottle to the head. Once he was unconscious, they loaded Castiel in the back of the Impala and drove him outside of town to some nameless dirt road in the middle of nowhere. They left him there, in the road, naked, bleeding, and unconscious. 

“You mean before or after I got expelled…” Dean asked quietly, gluing his eyes to a spot on the ground at the bottom of the stairs. His hands felt shaky. 

“Both, I guess.” 

Dean thought about it for a minute before starting, this many years later, there wasn’t much reason to lie about it, but that didn’t make it any easier, “You remember how I missed school for a few weeks after he caught us? He uh…did a lot of shit to try and ‘get rid of all the gay’ in me. Called in a Catholic priest to pray over me like I was fucking possessed. Then he paid for prostitutes and made me fuck them…made me do the first few in front of him, just in case. After a while, I had him convinced I was straight again…that you were just some fucking mistake…that you tricked me and that I fucking hated you for it.” 

Understanding seemed to wash over Castiel at that point, “And that’s when he let you come back to school…”

“Yeah.” 

The day Dean came back to school, he had tried to avoid Castiel, but Cas had caught him between classes and pulled him out to the back parking-lot to talk. “You look like shit. Are you ok? Where have you been?” 

Dean couldn’t make eye contact, “Home, had some shit to do.”

“Oh…I’m glad your back,” Castiel reached out to take Dean’s hand, but instantly Dean knocked his hand away. 

“Don’t fucking touch me. We done here?”

Castiel looked at him, trying to figure out what had happened, like the truth must be buried behind his eyes somewhere if he looked hard enough, “Dean, about what happened, your father is an asshole, even worse than mine, and that is saying something. But you don’t have to let him…change who you are. I know you, you can be yourself with me…you can be honest.”

“Honest? You want fucking honest? How about stay the fuck away from me? You don’t know shit about me. You think we had something just because we banged a few times? You were nothing but a warm body to me. That’s it.” 

“Dean, we both know that’s not true. You love me, I know you do, you can’t fake that…”

“Love you? I don’t fucking love you. Are you kidding me? I’m not some fucking faggot. Now, stay the fuck away from me,” Dean bit out through gritted teeth, moving close to Castiel, looking down on the shorter man, trying to scare him, hoping he would just leave him alone, but Castiel was never scared off. 

Castiel met his eyes, he had no fear even after what they had done to him, “Or what? You want to hit me? Will that make you feel like a big _straight_ man? Go ahead. It won’t change what we both know.” 

“Yeah? Let’s fucking find out.” Dean swung low into Cas’s gut and when the man doubled over, he kneed him in the face, knocking him to the ground. Castiel never fought back, he just let Dean wreck him. Everything Dean had been put through in those few weeks, the humiliation, the fear, the anger, the confusion, he took all of it out on Castiel. Somewhere, halfway through, he was so lost in it that he was screaming while he hit him, there was just so much he needed to get out on some visceral level. The campus security finally managed to wander by on his rounds, and pulled Dean off. That was the day he got expelled and the last day he saw Castiel Novak for a very long time. 

Castiel cleared his throat, “So, all of that…”

Dean cut him off, “I needed things to go back to the way they were. I needed my dad to believe I was who he thought I was. Fuck, I needed to believe I was the person I thought I was…and honestly by the time I went back to school I really had convinced myself that you were just some fluke. That it was all just…because of the E or something.” 

Castiel didn’t speak and he didn’t look at Dean. Dean sighed and continued, the silence being more than he could handle, “After I got expelled, my old man was so fucking thrilled about what I had done to you, he pulled me into the family business full time. I started going on deals with him, collecting debts, pushing bigger loads, thieving, whatever. Got caught pretty fast though, probably wasn’t a month after I left school that I got tossed in juvey for a year.”

“I had no idea…”

“Yeah, well, why would you?” 

They both went silent, each remembering different parts of everything they had been through, both wanting to say something, but unsure of what they could say at this point. 

“So, what about now?” Castiel asked, finally looking over at Dean from the corner of his eye. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean…do you still think it was a fluke? Did you end up stuck in the closet your whole life?”

“Fuck you.” Castiel lifted a brow at that. Dean rolled his eyes, “What the fuck are you even asking me? Did I ever bang any other guys? Yeah, sure, in prison, but that’s not…that’s different. In there, it’s all about making sure you don’t end up somebody’s bitch. Outside of that, no, just chicks.” Castiel nodded, letting it go, though Dean could tell he was trying to resist some smug comment or another. “Well, what about you Mr. Green Beret, whatever? You get laid like crazy while you were off defending the country or some shit?”

“Sure. Love happens, even in the military,” Castiel said with a shrug. 

“Love, huh?” 

“Yeah, once or twice, didn’t you-“

“Nah, never let it get serious. Just fucked when I needed to. Called it good. Proper south side style, I guess.” 

They got quiet again, at least until Castiel couldn’t restrain himself anymore.

“So, guess I was a fluke then? The only man sexy enough to seduce Dean Winchester?” Castiel laughed and Dean glared at him.

“Laugh it up, real cute, Cas.” Castiel smiled and looked away, the air felt lighter then, and Dean finally let himself relax. 

They stayed in a companionable silence for a moment, until Cas’s smile faded, “Dean, what are you planning to do when the snow melts? Are you still going to Canada?”

He grinned, “Why? You want me to stay? Hoping you can seduce me again? It’s not gonna work this time Novak.”

Castiel thought about it for a moment, but his face was completely unreadable, “After what happened today…I realized I need to do some reconnaissance. I need to see what is going on in the surrounding towns…see if I can find those people from today and make sure they aren’t going to be a problem. I can handle it myself, despite how it may have looked earlier today. It would be easier with some help, but I don’t want to ask you if you aren’t planning on staying. This isn’t a job for someone who is just…stopping through. It’s a job for someone making a home. If you are planning to leave-”

“Cas, no matter what happens later, we’ll help you while we’re here. Hell, I’ve been sitting here all night thinking about what we were gonna do about those assholes anyway. You make a plan and I’m there.” 

Castiel smiled and put his hand on Dean’s shoulder as he stood up, “Thank you. Think I’ll go work on those plans then. Yell if you need me.” 

Dean nodded and watched him go back inside, “Night, Cas.”


	7. God Save the Zombie Queen...and the Hobbit-Sized Bio hazard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up a lot longer than anticipated.   
> Dean & Cas go looking for the other survivors.

Claire and Castiel were loading weapons and emergency gear in the truck while Jack watched from his seat on the porch. He was happily medicated and healing. Not far away, Dean and Sam stood by the Impala arguing. 

“Dean, you saw Cas freeze up the other day, you don’t know what you are going to be up against out there, I should go with you guys. You might need someone to watch your back out there!”

Dean shrugged, “Sorry Sammy, two-person mission. Besides, if those assholes come back here, you and Claire gotta fight ‘em off and protect Jack.” Sam didn’t look convinced and Dean rolled his eyes, “Cas is gonna be fine. The anxiety hits him sometimes, but he has his head in the game on this, he’s got my back. I trust him.” 

Sam looked at him in disbelief, and then anger, “Why? Just because he’s south side? Dean, I am clearly missing a huge part of the puzzle here, can’t you just finally tell me what is up with you and Cas? You guys keep dropping hints about how you used to hang out, but I don’t remember ever seeing you two together. You never mentioned him, and he never came by, so what happened between you two that makes you so…?” Sam gestured to Dean. Sam liked Cas and he loved that reuniting with Cas seemed to make his brother happy, but this kind of mission could easily get his brother killed, especially if the only person watching his back might freeze up in a firefight, and Sam could not lose his brother. 

“Look, I get you’re worried, but you need to calm down. Cas only broke down like that because his kids were there. This guy is a fucking soldier, alright? With his kids out of the way, safe at home with you, he’ll be able to concentrate on what we have to do. Hell, he came up with the plan himself, he wouldn’t put together something he didn’t think he could handle. Now, will you just calm the fuck down? This whole thing might not even turn into a firefight, might just spy a bit and figure out the plan from there.”

“I don’t like this, Dean.”

“I know, but you don’t like a lot of things. Like haircuts and pie. It’s blasphemy, really,” Dean said pulling a bit of Sam’s long hair. Sam knocked his hand away and gave the bitchiest bitch face he could muster until Dean burst out laughing. “Sam, I’ll be fine. We’ll be back in a day or two.”

“Fine…just don’t get yourself killed, all right?” Dean smiled and pulled his brother in for a hug, clapping him on the shoulder a few times before they headed over to the truck.

Claire looked just as angry about this plan as Sam was. Castiel cupped her face and kissed her forehead, “We’ll be home soon. Take care of your brother, ok?” Claire nodded and hugged Castiel tightly. For all of her pride, in that one moment, Dean could finally see just how young she was. Castiel gave a final wave to Jack and hopped in the driver’s seat of his truck. 

As Dean went to the other side, Claire grabbed his sleeve, “You bring him home.” Dean looked in her eyes for a moment and saw nothing but raw intensity. He nodded, and she let him go. In minutes, they were heading out over the small dirt road with Sam and Claire standing together in the rear-view mirror, both frozen in worry. 

They headed north and stayed on the highway. With how clean and rested the group had looked, Cas was sure they were staying in a house or town rather than just at a temporary camp. There were probably plenty of cabins hidden in the hills, but the nearest town up north was Grangeville, so that seemed like the best place to start. The town was much bigger than Whitebird, but even before the world ended it couldn’t have had more than a couple thousand people in it. 

While they drove, Dean looked over the map, the highway would lead them right onto main street. “Depending on how bad the downtown area has already been looted, we might be able to tell if they’ve been sticking around there. That and by how many walkers there are.”

“Of course, look off of downtown, too. See anything else useful?” Castiel asked, hoping Dean’s fresh eyes might find something he hadn’t when he had combed through the town’s layout the night before. 

“Hmm… if they got a big group, they might be staying in the National Guard military base. Nothing else really stands out.”

Castiel nodded, “I considered that as well, but if they had taken the military base…why would they only have pistols?”

“Maybe because they weren’t exactly expecting to run into anyone in fucking White bird?”

“Says the man who apparently brought an assault rifle when following my daughter into the woods.” 

“Hey, not everyone is as careful as I am.” 

Castiel shook his head and kept his eyes focused, looking for any sign or hint of where the group could be.

“Hey Cas?”

“Hm?”

“I think I might have found something. About 17 miles out of Grangeville, there is a ski and tubing area up in the mountains.”

“Snowhaven?”

“Yeah, that’s it. I mean, if it were me, that’s where I would stay. I’d loot the shit out of Grangeville, but I’d stay out there. It would be easy as hell to clear, it’s got natural defenses, less people would be stopping by so there would be less trouble, and it’s built to keep the warmth in right? Big enough to set up a big group too. Hell, if they aren’t there, I’ll move in myself.”

“Hmm you make a good point. Let’s check it out after we take a look around Grangeville. We can find a spot somewhere up the mountain to ditch the truck close to the road and then stick to the original plan.” 

“Right, we go in quiet.”

They drove up through Grangeville. There were walkers scattered around, but not enough to be worried about from inside the massive truck. Dean looked over the stores they passed, and just as expected, their windows were shattered, and their shelves were close to bare. “If they did raid the National Guard base, we are gonna have to be really careful. Looks like they might’ve been here a while.”

“Rocket launcher careful?” Cas asked and Dean grinned.

“Maybe. Good thing I came prepared.” 

Cas smiled briefly, but it quickly fell, “Let’s go check out the base. Even if they aren’t there, it might give us an idea of what we’re walking into.”

“Yeah, alright. I’ll tell you when to turn.”

Dean played navigator and guided Castiel through the small town towards the National Guard base. Eventually, they found it buried deep in the suburbs, which Dean found weird, but he never really understood much about the military mindset anyway. To play it safe, they parked a block away and headed in on foot. 

Everything seemed quiet enough in the neighborhood, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Dean kept his assault rifle ready, and looked around cautiously. His whole body tensed and focused as he prepared for what could end up as either a brutal firefight, a boring trade talk or, if they were lucky, maybe a massive looting spree. Beside him, Castiel was clearly at the ready too, but unlike before, he seemed to have fallen into an almost intimidating calm, like a snake ready to snap at the first sign of danger. Here was the soldier. 

As they continued to walk towards the base, Castiel studied the houses lining the streets. Each seemed to have been looted to a different degree, but the strange thing was that several of the houses had large black Xs spray painted next to the front doors. It was obviously some kind of coding system, but he couldn’t be sure what it meant without further investigation. Perhaps it was the Search and Rescue symbol for the house having been searched? But if that were the case, Castiel wondered why only some of the houses on the block had been marked. There also weren’t any numbers or other markings indicating hazards or numbers of live and dead victims found inside. 

“What’s up?” Dean asked when he realized how intensely Castiel had been staring at the houses.

“Hm? Oh, those markings…I’m just wondering what they might mean.”

Dean looked them over and thought for a moment before answering, “Back home, it meant ‘good target’. We never used that system, but I knew some groups that worked with scouts. The scouts would hunt around for good places to steal from and they’d mark it like that. You know, X marks the spot, style?”

“Hmm…that could be it…possibly…but those houses look like they’ve already been looted.”

“Good point. Then maybe it’s more like checking it off the list or something? Like, it could be a way for them to remind themselves they already got all the good shit, so they don’t waste their time looting it all over again? I mean, I get it, all the houses in suburbia basically look the same.”

“That sounds reasonable.”

Dean shrugged, then paused and held a hand up to stop Castiel, “Hey, we’re getting close.” 

Castiel nodded and pulled out his binoculars. He looked the base over carefully, piece by piece, while Dean waited impatiently beside him. Dean tried to read Cas’ minor reactions to get some idea of what he was seeing, but it was impossible. This guy could’ve been a fucking poker legend. 

“Well?” Dean asked when he couldn’t handle the suspense anymore. 

Finally, Castiel passed the binoculars to him, “Looks like we didn’t need to be that careful after all.”

Dean lifted a brow in curiosity, then looked over the base. The main building was only one story high and was painted a dreary mixture of various shades of tan. Attached to the side of the main building was a large lot surrounded by a tall chain link fence. Behind the fence, there were several powerful looking, armored military vehicles…all encircled by a mess of at least a hundred walkers. He noticed that some of them were in uniforms, and some were in civilian’s clothes. Some were pressing on the fence in a feeble effort to get out, and some were just colliding with the military vehicles and each other in their aimless need for movement. Following their movements, he quickly realized that the gate of the fence was sealed with thick chains and padlocks. Looking over the main building again, he saw that the windows had thick yellow bars on them, but through the shattered glass, he could see more shadows of walkers ambling around inside. 

Dean handed the binoculars back, “Totally overrun, huh. Looks like this is where everyone was holding out…”

“Yes, that was my estimation as well…with a small town like this it makes sense that the people would rely on the local military for support.” 

“The weird thing is the chain and padlocks on the gate. Did you see those? They wouldn’t have locked themselves in like that when they were alive,” Dean started.

“Someone else did it to keep them in,” Castiel finished. Dean nodded in agreement.

“They probably came to raid the place, found this fucking hell, and said fuck it. Smart. But, if they were just gonna hit and run, they wouldn’t waste the chains and padlocks…no, this is our group, Cas. I can feel it. They planned to keep hitting this town and they didn’t want to deal with all those walkers, so they sealed ‘em in.”

“That would mean, the group most likely has small numbers…and they are possibly poorly armed.”

“Yup, easy pickings.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to just…that. Come on, let’s drive around a bit more, they could still be hiding out in town somewhere, if not, then we head up to the ski lodge.” 

They spent another few hours driving around town, but they still didn’t find anyone alive or any area that looked like it was still being lived in. Eventually, they decided to take a break for lunch and parked on a quiet street. Claire had made them some large packs filled with food, just in case they were gone for multiple days. Dean fished out some jerky while Castiel ate some canned peaches. 

“So, once we get a feel for them…if they do seem like trouble…what do you wanna do? You said we were coming out here to get rid of the threat, right?” Dean asked curiously and Castiel shrugged, stabbing another slice of peach with his fork. 

“I suppose it depends…but if there is any chance they can be reasoned with…that’s what I want to do. I don’t want to just…slaughter more people if I don’t have to…”

Dean could practically see the film reel going off in Castiel’s head and decided to change the subject, they could always figure out the rest once they had assessed the situation after all, “Hey, uh, you remember riot fest? I was thinking about it, and I bet the fence for riot fest was actually bigger than that one back there at the base.”

Castiel smiled at the memory, “Please tell me that doesn’t mean you want to go jump it just for old time’s sake?”

“Well, not _just_ for old time’s sake. Some of those armored cars in there looked pretty awesome. We’d need to paint them though, that tan shit is just unacceptable.” Castiel chuckled quietly, eating another slice of peach. 

Dean remembered hearing about the concert from one of his father’s suppliers, some of his favorite bands were playing that year and he was desperate to go. For months, he started skipping meals and saving every spare dollar he could get his hands on, and somehow, he actually managed to have enough saved before the tickets even went on sale. 

But of course, life always found a way to screw with him, and this time it was by making sure he unloaded a bad batch of acid that ended up costing him hundreds of dollars in refunds just to save his reputation. By the time he had scrounged up enough money for the tickets again, they were sold out. 

He tried asking around for spare tickets or even counterfeit ones, but nothing worked out. Eventually, he forced himself to forget about it and count it as a loss. But the week of the festival, posters were put up everywhere, reminding him of what he was missing, and he couldn’t help but alternate between moping and raging in frustration. He knew it was stupid to be this angry about missing a concert, but it was like the whole situation was a symbol of everything wrong in Dean’s life. Primarily, it was a clear example of the fact that he could never really get what he wanted, no matter how hard he worked for it. It made him tense with anger and hopelessness. 

The morning of the festival, Dean slammed each cabinet closed as he raided the Novak kitchen for anything eatable, nothing looked good enough to make up for what he was missing. Castiel watched him patiently for a moment before finally getting up from the table and wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist to settle him. “Dean, I love you, but I think you are about to break the doors off my cabinets. What’s going on?”

Dean sighed feeling Cas’ face pressed gently against his shoulder, he leaned into the embrace, but he still felt tense with anger, “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“Right. The same fine you’ve apparently been all week? Where you yelled at the mailman, took his bag, and emptied it on him before chasing him down the street? Oh, or maybe the fine you were when you got us kicked out of K-mart after kicking over the bargain bin? Dean, NO ONE gets kicked out of there. My brothers and sisters have literally covered themselves in pots and pans and had epic battles through the aisles, and they still didn’t get kicked out. Or maybe you mean the _fine_ where you just laid there all-night zoning out and ignoring me?”

“Cas…”

“No, don’t give me any more excuses, I’ve tried to wait it out, thinking you might just talk to me on your own, but this is getting a little ridiculous. Will you please just tell me what’s going on? Whatever it is, we can take care of it. Together.”

Dean put his hand over Cas’ for a moment before prying them gently off his stomach and turning to face him, “It’s stupid…really…I’ll be fine ok?”

“If you care about it this much, it can’t be stupid. Just tell me,” Cas said as he pulled Dean close again. 

Dean smiled weakly and moved his forehead down against Cas’. “Riot fest is today…I just…I really wanted to go.”

Castiel immediately relaxed, “I understand, I know how important music is to you, and it’s important to see your favorite bands when you can. After all, you never know when you won’t have the chance anymore. So, let’s go.”

“No more tickets…no money…” 

“Then, we sneak in. Can’t be that hard…it’ll be just like when we break into the public swimming pool,” Cas teased, giving Dean a small, playful kiss. 

“This is totally different, Cas. That’s at night and there isn’t any security, plus the place is in the middle of an empty ass park, this is-”

“Just leveling up. Don’t tell me you are too scared to try, Winchester.”

Dean leaned back and narrowed his eyes as he looked Cas over, he was so smug and confident, but practically radiating love and determination. It was overwhelming. “Hell no, you’re on Novak.”

It was at that moment that Hannah leaped down the stairs, “I wanna help!” She had clearly been spying. 

On reflex, Dean practically shoved Cas away and tried to make himself look busy, but Hannah ignored the effort. She was 12 at the time and absolutely adorable. She had long brown curls and big bright eyes, plus it didn’t hurt that she was also smart enough to talk her way in or out of anything. 

“Hannah, that’s not a good idea,” Cas started, but she just grinned wider. That confident, smug grin clearly ran in the family.

“Trust me, I have a plan and you two are gonna need me.”

“Hannah, seriously, I don’t want you to get in trouble. I know you’ve been bored having to watch Samandriel all summer, but I promise, next week I’ll take you to the beach ok?” 

“How about, I help you two get into the concert and _then_ as a reward you take me to the beach?” 

Castiel sighed and looked at Dean, then sighed in defeat, “I’m not agreeing to anything, but tell us your plan and we’ll decide from there.” 

It turned out, Hannah had a better plan than either of them could come up with. 

They headed to where the festival was set up and waited until things were at their busiest, just a little after lunch. Massive lines of people were pouring in, venders were running around trying to make sure everything was in order, and most of the muscle was either at the stages, trying to keep things from turning into absolute destruction and chaos, or at the ticket gates, completely overwhelmed with trying to take tickets and check bags. 

In the midst of all the chaos, Hannah ran up to the guards at the door, fake crying, and filled with panic and fury as she screamed at the top of her lungs, “Someone in line just groped me! I’m 12 years old and I’m being sexually harassed and what are you doing about it? Isn’t it your job to make sure we are safe? I’m not even inside yet and I’m being violated! You need to be watching this line, not just sitting on your asses taking tickets!” The scene had people pulling out their phones to take video while others looked ready for a south side pedophile beat down. 

While the crowd at the gate was fired up by her performance, Castiel and Dean climbed their way over the large chain link fence. Plenty of people had seen them, but it was so in the punk spirit of riot fest, that most people just cheered when they landed on the inside of the festival. Dean laughed and gave a small bow to his adoring public before snatching Cas’ wrist and running through the crowd towards the nearest stage.

They spent all day going from stage to stage, jumping into the muddy mosh pits, and letting themselves drown in the music. In between running from one stage to another, they got free beers from people who had seen their daring entrance, stole a couple of pins from the merchandise tables, and had a quickie in a porta-potty. 

Dean bit another piece of jerky into his mouth, “Fuck that was a good day. I still can’t believe we got that close to the stage. Had to basically fight our way up there, but talk about worth it. I can still feel that bass.”

“All I remember is that by the end of it, somehow, we were shirtless, partly deft, doused in beer, bleeding, and covered with rebellious, anti-establishment symbols.” Dean glanced at him curiously, and instantly Castiel’s countenance broke into a genuine smile, “It was a pretty great day… even with the body paint fiasco.” 

“Oh god, the body paint. I forgot about that. That shit didn’t come off for days,” Dean chuckled and leaned his head against the window. His whole body felt warm as he stole glances of Castiel. He had missed that beautiful smile; it made everything in the world feel right, it also made Dean ache to reach over and hug him, but he knew better. 

“And then there were the broken ribs,” Castiel reminded him. 

“Oh yeah, the mosh pit…fuck. We were in so much pain we couldn’t fuck for like a week without massive amounts of painkillers.” 

Castiel smiled nostalgically, “Good thing father always has such an impressive stash of them or we might have accidently killed ourselves trying to bear the pain,” Dean laughed and nodded, his pale cheeks glowing pink as he remembered one particular night. Both of them were more than half out of it due to copious amounts of Vicodin, but still equally desperate. They clumsily tried to get a condom on Cas’ dick. However, they completely failed and dropped it somewhere in Dean’s disaster of a room. In their need, they gave up on it, and just went without. He wasn’t sure if it was the painkillers or the lack of condom, but nothing ever felt quite as good as it did when Cas came in him. 

They both fell into a companionable silence for a moment until Castiel added on quietly, “You know, Hannah loved that punked out teddy bear you gave her…she slept with it every night.”

“Yeah? Well, she earned it…she was a good kid. The whole beach day reward with everyone was fun too, even with Balthazar constantly trying to pants me.” 

“I still remember Anna’s face when he succeeded…I think, for just a slip second, she wanted to steal you from me,” Castiel teased, though his words were tinged with sadness. 

“Anna _was_ ridiculously good looking, she had nothing on you though,” Dean responded without thinking, then when he realized what he had said he instantly froze and looked over at Castiel to see his reaction.

Castiel simply smiled, but his eyes were lost in thoughts and memories of his lost siblings. Dean wished he knew where they were…he wished he had watched out for them when everything went down… 

“Cas…I’m sorry,” Dean said quietly. His whole goal with the nostalgia trip was to cheer Castiel up, not make him even more upset. 

“It’s ok, let’s just head to the ski lodge…”

“Yeah. Hey, don’t suppose you have any Sex Pistols or something? I think screaming a little God Save the Queen is exactly what we need on this mission.” 

Castiel thought for a moment, “Do you think the queen is a walker?”

“That is…. amazing. I kinda hope so, just for how hardcore punk that would be.” 

“God Save the Zombie Queen?” Castiel asked and Dean laughed and joined in, “God Save the Zombie Queen!” 

When they got to the end of the town, they turned off onto a smaller road and went back south towards the mountains. The road went by yet another beautiful, clear stream that Dean couldn’t help but watch. The mountains and forest all around them were still heavily covered in untouched snow that sparkled in the late afternoon sun. The road seemed to change names every few miles, as they got further away from what at one point had been civilization.

About halfway there they went passed a Drive-in movie theater and Dean’s eyes went wide. “No fucking shit, they still have those?”

Cas smiled, “Yes, in some places they did. Not everywhere is like Chicago.”

“Thank god for that, huh?”

Further along the road they passed an engine re-building shop and Dean couldn’t help but wonder what treasures he could find in there. It also made him want to explore a bit further north where some of the bigger towns were. From what he had seen so far, Idaho was built for a zombie apocalypse. There were guns and ammo everywhere, natural resources that didn’t need people to thrive, and damn if it wasn’t beautiful. 

When they neared the top of the mountain, Cas pulled off the road and drove into the forest. With all the snow, there was no way they could completely hide their tracks without something drastic. After some quick planning, they worked together to chop down a large pine tree and pulled it into their tracks, hoping it would distract whoever saw it from looking closer. They covered the truck itself with massive branches cut from other trees further in, grabbed their packs and some basic weapons, and hiked the rest of the way. 

Castiel had been trained to navigate using the sky, so combined with Dean’s map, they easily made their way through the thick forest. The place was even more perfect than Dean had originally thought. Not only was it at the top of a mountain, but the whole area was cleared out, so the forest framed a giant, open, circular area that was once used for tubing and skiing. That kind of clarity would allow the people in the lodge plenty of warning if a hoard actually managed to get there after somehow climbing up the mountain and getting through the thick forest. The lodge itself was right by the road, so the occupants had an easy way out in an emergency. It also had a dirt path that cut across the cleared area to the opposite side, where yet another road was hidden just behind the trees. On several sides, they also saw small red shacks labeled “Ski Patrol,” which Dean could imagine being used as watch towers.

“Damn, now this is a fucking camp,” he commented as he handed the binoculars to Cas.

Cas squinted and looked over the lodge itself. Originally, it had been an artistic combination of natural and modern architecture, and now it looked even more prepared to outlast anything that came its way. The place was built like a log cabin, but then had modern layers on the roof and sides to keep the warmth in. The large windows on the front were boarded up completely and the whole lodge was now surrounded by massive wooden spikes just like the kind they had seen on the cars in town, they even had a barbed wire fence up. “It looks like they’ve been here a while…maybe since the beginning.” 

“Either way, they definitely settled in, that’s for sure. This place is nice.” 

“They could be useful trading partners,” Cas suggested, thinking aloud.

“Or they could be a bunch of fucking psychopaths, like most of us that are left. Cas, we killed some of their people, it’s a little too late to try and be friends now.”

“Perhaps, but we can’t leave the possibility out…let’s take a closer look.”

“Through their boarded-up windows?”

“Something like that, come on.” 

They stayed in the cover of the trees around the large open area as they made their way closer to the lodge. Next to it, in a dirt parking lot, there was a pair of cars with wooden spikes on them. They didn’t see anyone outside though, and they couldn’t see inside. 

“We gonna wait it out?” Dean asked and Castiel shook his head.

“There are several doors in. Let’s start upstairs. See where that balcony is? You aren’t too old to hop up there are you?” Cas asked in a teasing tone, though Dean could tell he was asking seriously. 

“Hey, now. I may not have spent my days fighting out in a damn sandbox earning medals like you, soldier boy, but I kept in shape. Prison and being a Winchester in the south side makes a pretty damn decent training regimen, actually.”

Castiel shrugged, “If you say so. Keep close.” They made their way behind the lodge, keeping their hoods up, and their guns ready. “If we move quietly, we shouldn’t draw any attention.”

“You know, maybe we should just start with one of those little shacks?”

“Is the great Dean Winchester scared?”

“What? No! I’m just saying, there are other ways for us to spy on these people besides just storming their main base head first.”

“Just stay close, this is our best chance to see what we are up against. There are only two vehicles here, so either their numbers are even less than we thought or most of them are gone for the day. We’ll be in and out, they won’t even notice us.” Castiel took another looked around and then moved quickly towards the corner of the building where the two doors were stacked one on each floor. He ran towards the wall, and used it to jump up and grab the railing of the second story balcony. With one swift movement, he pulled himself up and over it, then went to check the door. As he expected, it was locked, so he pulled out a small pin from his coat pocket and began to pick the lock.

Dean looked at the wall, trying to size it up. The way Cas had moved reminded him of the time they had broken into one of Castiel’s ex-foster homes. They took backpacks full of electronics and jewelry straight to the pawnshop and easily made enough money for Cas’s family to pay the gas bill while Michael was off at college on a full scholarship and Anna was between jobs. Even this many years later, Cas hadn’t lost his agility. It made Dean a little more nervous than he would have liked to admit. 

Without much trouble, Castiel got the lock open. He looked back over to where Dean was frozen below and used his arms to suggest Dean catch the fuck up. Dean flipped him off, trying to tell him not to rush him, but he knew he couldn’t stay there all day. He took a deep breath, visualized his path, and ran at the wall. His boots slid a bit as he launched himself from the icy wall, and he wound up hitting the balcony a bit shorter than he expected. His hands slide down the icy bars and his legs dangled beneath him with nothing to use as leverage. “Shit.” 

Castiel walked over, “Drop and try again, you won’t be able to pull yourself up like that.” Dean glared at him rebelliously and Cas rolled his eyes, “Just drop or I’m going in without you.” In defeat, Dean did as he was told. This time he managed to get his legs up high enough to crawl over the gate. Castiel slowly clicked the door open and listened. He waited for a moment, but he didn’t hear anything. He looked at Dean and gave a small nod. Dean nodded back in silent understanding and pulled his pistol up, leaving his rifle resting against his back. Cas opened the door quietly and Dean moved in, ready to shoot. However, as it opened, they realized that the door had only led to a stairwell. Cas quietly checked the door leading to the second floor and found it unlocked, to his relief. They set up their positions again, listening and waiting, then Cas opened the door while Dean moved forward ready to shoot. 

The room they entered was a narrow loft that overlooked the floor below. The only light came from a large fireplace below, which left this floor covered in shadows. From what they could see, there were sleeping bags and pillows lined up in two rows with stacked tables and chairs along the far wall. The room was still, but Dean remained cautious as he carefully looked around, pushing his toe into some of the fluffier sleeping bags to make sure no one was in there with them. His brow furrowed as he pointed his gun at each sleeping bag he inspected. Castiel counted a total of 16 sleeping bags, though he supposed this wasn’t necessarily where everyone slept. After all there was a smaller cabin right next to the lodge. 

“You can’t do this! It’s just a fever, I’ll be fine!” A young voice shouted catching Dean and Cas’s attention. 

“Before modern medicine do you know how many people died of fevers? A fucking lot. Now get in there. If you get better, we’ll let you out.”

Dean and Cas looked at each other and followed the sound towards the balcony. They both got low and peaked over the side in time to see a large man in heavy furs close a hatch in the floor, and lock it with a padlock. There was frantic knocking coming from the hatch, but the man just hummed a tune as he headed out the door. 

“Well he’s not wrong. Saw it back home…a bad bug goes around and that’s the end for a lot of people,” Dean whispered. Castiel ignored him and went to where the windows were and found a small crack between boards to look through. The man who left got on a snowmobile and headed out towards the forest. He had a large rifle strapped to his back and an empty, bloodstained tube attached to the back of his snowmobile. 

“I wonder where they all are…we didn’t see anyone in Grangeville…or on the road…” 

“There are more towns, right?”

“Yes, but why go that far to scavenge? Something is…wrong. Let’s keep looking around.” 

Castiel led Dean downstairs. The room looked exactly like what Dean had imagined a ski lodge to look like, or at least, it matched what old 80’s movies suggested a ski lodge looked like. There was a large fireplace surrounded by scattered sofas, soft-looking reclining chairs, and beautifully carved tables. Here and there he spotted blankets, books, games, and mugs half full of something or other. An old bar stood in the corner, actually stocked with alcohol and appropriately near the bathrooms. There was also a door near the fireplace with a label that helpfully read “Kitchen.” The place was decorated with stuffed deer heads, massive mounted fish, and pictures of people skiing and tubing- pre-apocalypse. As they looked around, the knocking didn’t stop, though it slowed down and crying and coughing could be heard. 

Dean kept glancing at the hatch as he looked around. Meanwhile, Castiel listened at the door that led into the kitchen and soon held up his hand to get Dean’s attention. Dean moved in close with his gun ready. They could hear voices from inside. 

“Pass me some more rosemary will you?”

“I don’t know how you can be so calm about all this.”

“There are plenty of reasons to be calm. I don’t see why you are letting yourself get so flustered. You are going to burn the food if you don’t start paying more attention.” 

“Seriously? Uh, let’s see, maybe because there is a HOARD coming this way? Or maybe because we are running low on supplies? Or how about because of the flu going around? All of these things could literally kill us all by next week and all you care about is this tomato soup?!”

“Bisque.” 

“What?”

“Tomato bisque, dear.” 

The younger woman growled, before slamming something metallic onto the counter, “I need some air!” Dean and Castiel backed up just in time for her to come storming out of the kitchen. Castiel quickly grabbed her, covered her mouth with his hand, and held a thick hunting knife to the throat. Her eyes went wide as she looked between them, whimpering. 

“Keep quiet, or I’ll slit your throat and feed you to the hoard,” Castiel threatened in a low whisper next to her ear, she nodded as tears filled her eyes. “Let’s go talk.”

Castiel pushed the woman into the stairwell, Dean kept his gun on her while Cas took her hand, and held the knife to her wrist, tight enough that the blade pressed against her skin, but not tight enough to cut. “You scream, you die. You try to run, you die. We just have a couple of questions, if you cooperate, we won’t hurt you. What’s your name?”

The woman looked between them and swallowed nervously, her dark eyes still glazed with tears “Andrea. Andrea Lafitte.” 

“Who is in charge here?” 

“My husband, Benny,” the way she looked at him, Castiel figured she meant that as some kind of threat, but it was a weak one at best considering they had no idea who this Benny person was. 

“How many of you are there?”

“16 this morning…probably less tonight.”

“You mentioned a hoard, where is it?”

“Lewiston. A week ago, there were still plenty of living people there…we don’t know what happened to them. Maybe it was the flu that’s going around or something, but we went back a few days ago to trade and the place was over run.”

“Is that where your people are?”

Andrea nodded, “The hoard is following the highway along the snake river. Most of our people went to detonate the bridge near Spalding in hopes to send them up north. Our best chance at cutting them off is over by the river where there are less roads. Plus, if it doesn’t work, we should still have enough time to get out of here and wait it out.”

Cas looked her over, “You also mentioned being low on supplies?”

“Isn’t everyone at this point?” Cas narrowed his eyes and she continued, “We picked Grangeville clean a long time ago. Naturally, we moved on to the next big place and the next. Eventually, while we were scavenging up in Cottonwood, we ran into people from Lewiston. They had a pretty big trading circuit going up and down the river, so we joined in. We were bringing up supplies from the smaller towns and farms out here and trading for whatever we needed up in Lewiston. But now, with the hoard coming from up north and Lewiston out of business, we are back to scavenging the little towns for whatever we can find. Of course, to stay safe, we can’t go north, but there isn’t much in the south or east to pick from and there is nothing but mountains to the west. Even with people dropping to the flu, I don’t know how we are going to survive the winter on such low supplies.” 

“How many have you lost to the flu so far?”

“Three dead, a fourth just came down with symptoms. It hits hard and fast, and we don’t have any medicine to calm the fever.” 

Castiel thought for a moment, “When does Benny come back?”

“I don’t know, whenever they finish with the bridge I suppose…why? Please, we don’t have anything, even this place isn’t going to be safe soon, what could you possibly want from us?”

Castiel let go of her hand and she yanked it to her chest, looking at him unsure whether or not it was safe to move or even blink, “We might be able to help each other.” 

“What?” Dean whispered, his eyes wide, and Castiel held a hand up quieting him.

“What do you mean?” Andrea asked, keeping her eyes on Cas, and away from the gun that Dean was still pointing at her. 

“I can help you with your flu problem, maybe even your food problem…in exchange for friendship.” 

“Hell, of a way to start a friendship…” Andrea muttered and Castiel nodded, putting his hand on Dean’s gun to lower it. 

“We couldn’t be sure what kind of people you were…we had to be careful. We’re sorry if we scared you. May we wait with you for your husband to come back?”

“Yeah…sure…”

Castiel smiled and motioned for her to return to the main room. She carefully made her way back inside, never turning her entire back to them. She motioned for them to sit by the fire and then quickly went back in the kitchen. 

“What the hell are you thinking?” Dean asked the minute she disappeared.

“I am thinking, that maybe these people aren’t bad people, that maybe they are just trying to survive and need some help. I told you, if I thought there was a chance we could come to an agreement, that’s what I plan to do. Maybe together we really can build something and help each other out. My family and I have been hiding in that cabin for a long time, I’ve been hiding in it longer than the walkers have even been around, and maybe that needs to end. I need to think about what is best for Jack and Claire. We’ve done great so far, we are safe, we have enough food, I mean we have a practically endless supply considering the deer and fish…but it’s just us. People weren’t meant to live that way. We need each other…”

“Cas…they shot Jack.”

“And you killed two of them.” 

“All the more reason that this isn’t going to work out the way you’re thinking.”

“I still have to try.”

Dean looked him over and finally looked away in defeat, “Fine, look, if this is the way you want to play it-“

The door to the kitchen burst open and there was Andrea and another slightly older woman, both with guns aimed at Castiel and Dean. “Hands up!”

“I fucking knew it,” Dean said with a sigh.

“Andrea, please,” Castiel started, but she cut him off.

“You wanted to talk to my husband? You can, but you are going to wait somewhere safe, this is gonna be on our terms, not yours” as Andrea explained, the other woman covered her mouth with a handkerchief and opened the hatch. 

“Oh thank god, I knew you couldn’t leave me down here!”

“Move your ass, Kevin.”

“What?!” 

Andrea motioned for Castiel and Dean to move, “You two keep your hands up and go on over there. Kevin, when they get to the hatch, toss their weapons up here.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. Dean bit his lip trying to control his anger as Kevin patted them down and took every gun and knife he could find. He placed all the weapons on the floor, “Please, Andrea, I swear, the fever has gone down.”

“Good, probably the cold air down there, now all three of you in the hatch, now.” Kevin, Dean, and Castiel made their way down into the hatch and quickly the other woman shut the door. They could hear the padlock being shut above them. 

“Fucking great. We are so dead, why the hell did you change the plan? We were gonna come up here, scope it out, and take out the threat.”

“They don’t seem like a threat,” Castiel replied.

Dean shoved his face in his hands, “For fuck’s sake, Cas. Everyone is a goddamn threat. You should know that.”

Castiel shook his head, “That was your childhood, not mine.”

“Fuck you.” Still seething, Dean looked around for another way out, and that’s when he noticed something in the corner that made him jump back and gasp.

Castiel followed his gaze and when he saw it, he stepped back as well. In the corner of the room was an iron cage that ran from the floor to the low ceiling. Inside, were several walkers, moaning and bumping around. The closer Castiel looked, the more familiar they seemed, “Those…those are the people from the other day.”

Kevin looked at Castiel, “You? You killed them? At Whitebird? That was you?”

Castiel ignored the question, “Why are they down here? Why haven’t they been…”

“Killed? Walkers are useful. You can release them on your enemies or you can carry them around with you to trick other walkers into not attacking you…killing them is a waste,” Kevin said quietly as he found a spot to sit on the ground. He was pale, his breathing was labored, and his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat.

“Fuck, I forgot about the hobbit sized biohazard down here,” Dean pulled his shirt up to cover his face and moved to the far end of the room away from Kevin, but also far from the walker cage, “So much for sane people, huh?”

“It is…disturbing. Weren’t they your friends? Doesn’t it hurt to see them like this?” 

Kevin nodded, before falling into a coughing fit. When it ended he closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the wall, “They were my friends, but they know just as well as any of us, that we have to do our part. Everyone has to, until we can’t anymore. Survival of the whole is more important than being sentimental. Besides, it’s not like they feel pain or can think or anything…”

“It’s disrespectful and cruel to leave them like this. You don’t know what they can feel or think, would you honestly want to be left like this after you die?”

Kevin shrugged, his head rolling to the side as his eyes landed on Castiel, “Probably find out soon, I guess.” 

“Yeah? Well if you could hurry it the fuck up, that would be great. Maybe raise our chances of not getting sick too.” Castiel glared at Dean, but he carried on, “I got steel toed boots, I can make it fast, kid, just say the word.”

Castiel looked horrified, “Dean, stop it. Kevin, right? If we can work something out with Benny tonight, I think we can help you. We have medicine at my home, the kind that will bring the fever down and help your body fight.” 

“Sure…good luck with that,” Kevin mumbled quietly, wheezing and coughing a few times before closing his eyes and going still. 

Dean’s eyes went wide, “Kid? Kid!”


	8. The Trade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas meet the leader of the survivors.

“What?” Kevin asked, his brows furrowing together, “Why are you so loud?”

Dean sighed, “Look, just, let us know if you plan on dying.” 

“Will do.” 

“Dean…”

“What, Cas?”

Castiel shook his head and looked back at the walker cage, then at Kevin, then slid his way to the floor as well. He wasn’t sure what to make of these people. They were cruel with their treatment of Kevin and the walkers, but it was clearly out of desperation and fear…they were willing to trade with others and were brave enough to try and cut off the herd. Maybe they could still become trading partners, or at least they could have some kind of peace between them.

Then there was Dean; he could see just how much of a Winchester he had become. Despite his own family’s poverty and his father’s drug problem, Castiel still grew up happy. He grew up knowing that his brothers and sisters were on his side and that they loved him no matter what. They didn’t want him to join the army, but they were happy that he achieved his goal. They didn’t even care when he came out to them. Really, if anything, they loved him too much. That was what pushed him away when he had come back home. But Dean, he never had any of that. He never got to trust or rely on anyone else. He never got to see people work together because they loved each other. He only saw Sam as his dependent, innocent, little brother that he had to protect, and his father that used him as a punching bag and reluctant heir to a throne built on drugs, violence, and crime. When they were young, it left Dean desperate for love, it was like he had never met anyone who had genuinely just wanted to be close to him. Maybe that was all the “fluke” really was. Maybe in the end, it had all just been some sad need to feel loved by anyone and Castiel just happened to be there. 

When they were together, he thought he could see progress. Everyday, Dean seemed to trust him a little more, seemed to open up a little bit more, but still, at the end of the day, Dean had clearly lived his life trying to fit into his father’s expectations. Maybe, Castiel was fooling himself into thinking that Dean had grown to become the good man Castiel had known him to be. He had been seeing little kindnesses, like Dean protecting Jack and spending time with Claire. He had seen Dean’s old love of music and felt the ease that they once fell into so naturally. But now, he could see behind that as well. Dean didn’t trust, he didn’t want to try to connect with people or help those in need, he would just as soon slaughter all of them if it meant keeping his family safe. In fact, if Castiel hadn’t been there, if it had been a stranger living in that cabin, who knows what Dean would have done to take everything they had built. Could he really allow someone like this to stay with his family? Maybe it was time to face reality and let go of old hopes and delusions.

Several hours later, the hatch opened with a long creak. At the top of the stairs stood a scruffy man with pale blue eyes, a long, old military coat, and a black cap. “Kevin, how you holdin’ up, son?” 

Kevin moved slowly to look up the stairs at him “How do you think, Benny?” 

“Sorry, you know we gotta try and contain this…but you fight through it. Alright?”

Kevin nodded, closing his eyes and moving back into the spot he had been in, this time curling his head onto his knees, breathing heavily out his mouth. 

“Now, what to do with you two? I hear you pulled a gun and a knife on my wife?”

Dean looked at Cas, then up at Benny, “Yeah, well, seemed like the best call at the time.” 

Benny laughed, “Oh, I’m sure it did, come on up. Nice and slow, now.” Dean and Castiel made their way up the hatch to see around 10 people aiming guns at them, two of them were carrying Dean and Castiel’s guns. 

“Andrea said you wanted to talk? She said you thought you could help us out, so, take a seat, and let’s talk.” Benny moved to a table that had been pulled front and center by the fire. He removed his cap and coat, gave them to Andrea along with a kiss on the cheek, before he sat down. Dean couldn’t help but snicker at his suspenders. Something about this mountain man didn’t feel all that threatening. Andrea hung up his cap and jacket, then went back into the kitchen. Maybe she didn’t want to see what was about to happen.

Castiel and Dean took seats at the other end of the table, the others around them kept their guns up, just in case. It was then that Dean noticed, they all had medical masks on, well everyone besides Benny. 

“So, give me your best offer as to why I shouldn’t kill you where you sit,” Benny asked with a slow, country twang. 

Castiel steeled himself and focused in on Benny, “Andrea said you’ve worked with trading partners before. We are interested in that kind of arrangement. We have medicine to help Kevin, and we have had good luck with hunting and fishing, we could help you out with food through the winter. Now that you’ve lost your primary trading partner, you need help, and that need is only going to escalate if we all have to move out of the area because of the herd.” 

Benny nodded, a carefree smile on his face, “And what exactly would you want in return for all this…generosity.” 

“Like I said, we are looking for trading partners. Beyond trade, we could help each other defend the area and work together to make this place better. Like I said, we’ve been doing well for ourselves, but we could always use more numbers. Couldn’t everyone these days?” 

“Debatable…but you are right about some things. We need to build up a community if we want to survive somewhere long term, and losing Lewiston was a big hit. Where you holding up? What are your numbers like?”

Castiel’s shoulders tensed, “Forgive me for my hesitation…I have children at home. Until I’m sure we can reach an agreement, I’d rather not-“

“White bird. They are the assholes from White bird,” a man said, pointing with his gun. Though his face was covered, Dean could only assume it was one of the men from the gas station. 

“So, not only have you pulled a gun on my wife…you’ve killed two of my own.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Can we please just cut the bullshit. Yeah, shit went down, it happens. Nobody knows who the hell they are gonna run into out there, so we all go out guns blazing. The fact that you’re still alive means you do the same thing. So, are we working together or not, cause if not, let’s stop wasting time,” Dean was clearly done with small talk. Even now at the end of the world, Chicago was still a long ways away from Idaho, and the way people functioned, their ingrained culture, was still there somehow. 

Benny looked at him for a minute, almost trying to gauge how serious he was before bursting into laughing. He ran his hand through his short hair and then slapped it on the table, “You got some balls on you, I like that. Look, you want to try this out, I’m open to it…but we gotta build a little trust here first.” 

“How do we do that?” Castiel asked, feeling a bit unnerved all of a sudden. 

Benny thought for a minute, a small smile forming on his lips, “We make a trade. You said you can help Kevin, so take him home with you. As collateral, and as a way to make up for the people you killed, one of you stays here. For the one that stays, you work off your debt and help us deal with the herd, and then when the other brings Kevin home, a picture of good health, you go home. By then, we’ll have gotten to know each other, seen what you had to offer as far as medicine and manpower go, and we’ll get to see whether or not your word means jack shit.”

Dean was about to tell Benny to fuck off when Castiel spoke up, “What if we can’t save Kevin?”

Benny gave a noncommittal shrug, “We’ll cross that road when we get there. A lot of it will depend on whoever stays here.”

“What exactly will happen to them?” Castiel asked and Dean looked at him with wide eyes. He couldn’t believe Castiel was even considering this trade. 

“They work their share, just like everybody else. We got the bridge down today, but we gotta go and make sure the herd is funneling up north and not sliding past the papermill or on the backroads. We’ll need someone for runs, taking out strays, really depends on their skill set I guess.”

“Will you…keep them in that hatch?” 

“No. They’ll sleep upstairs with the rest of us, eat with us too, I’m not in the business of starting some new slave trade.”

“Cas!” Dean finally burst and Castiel looked at him, as usual Cas’ poker face was phenomenal, but Dean did his best to use his face and eyes to communicate his many problems with this plan. 

“May we…speak alone, for a moment?” Castiel asked motioning lightly to Dean and himself. 

Benny looked them over for a moment and nodded, “You can use the watch point outside, the red patrol shed. Tell Jody to wait outside for ya. And, just a warning, but don’t try to run. You run and we will consider that a sign that you don’t exactly wanna be friends anymore…and we will hunt you down.” 

“Of course.” 

Castiel and Dean were led out to the shed. It was snowing again: big flakes this time. The man who led them to the shed explained the situation to Jody and she made her way outside, keeping a close eye on them and a hand on her sidearm. She was wearing a police jacket, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything these days. 

The shed inside had a cinnamon scented candle burning that seemed to have thoroughly soaked its scent into the wood. Dean nearly choked on it when he walked in. He quickly surveyed the room, there was a walkie talkie on the table, which Dean assumed meant they were being listened to, along with some scattered supplies, marked up maps, leftovers from a really incredible looking sandwich, and a big set of binoculars. 

Once Castiel was inside and the door was shut behind them, Dean grabbed Cas by the front of his coat and pulled him as far away from the walkie-talkie as he could before whisper-yelling inches from his face, “What the hell are you thinking?”

Castiel stared deep into his eyes, as if trying to see through him to his core, before slowly narrowing his gaze aggressively, “I’m trying to make this work. I’m trying to keep us from getting killed. I’m trying…to build something, not that you would understand that.”

“Whoa, what now?” Dean asked, moving back a bit, still clutching Castiel’s coat in his hand.

Castiel closed the space between them again, and then spoke slowly, punctuating each word, “You never build, Winchesters just take or destroy.” Dean looked at him in disbelief as he continued, “I know you don’t agree with this, the fact that you were ready to bash that boy’s head in down there made it clear enough what you want, but Sam told me about the community in Chicago…he told me how everyone worked together.-”

“Yeah, and they still died, you idiot,” Dean shot back in disbelief. 

“There is always a chance of that happening, but at least they were together, actually living and trying. My family needs this, we have to stop hiding, Claire and Jack deserve more than just…me.” Castiel swallowed hard, finally breaking eye contact, “Look, when this is over, you and Sam don’t have to stay, in fact…maybe it would be better for all of us if you left. You can storm Canada and kill everything and everyone in your way if you want.”

“What?” Dean asked, finally releasing Castiel.

Castiel fixed his coat and kept his eyes away from Dean’s, “You clearly have different goals…and different ways of doing things and that’s fine for you and Sam, but I don’t want to live like our parents. Fuck the south side. Even now, even with the world what it is, I want to do the right thing…and I want Jack and Claire to grow up to be the kind of people that do the right thing. Dean, we don’t know each other anymore…a lot of what we know about each other comes from memories and probably…unrealistic hopes. I don’t know what you want…but I can’t let my…lingering curiosity about you affect decisions concerning my family,” he finished with a shrug and finally managed to look at Dean in the eyes again.

“Lingering curiosity? Seriously? That’s all I am to you? Fuck you, Cas. So, what? You offer yourself up as a fucking prisoner and I take Kevin home, ditch him on the kids, then me and Sam tow our asses up to Canada? Nice to see you again, have a good life? Fuck that,” Dean was walking the line of furious and devastated as he tried to hide his cracking voice. He fought tooth and nail to keep any tears from falling as he spoke, “Look, I know we don’t know each other anymore, but despite what you seem to fucking think, I am not my father and you don’t….you don’t get to decide who I am!” With that he lost the battle and a stray tear spilt down his cheek. Hearing Castiel be so open and ready to just throw him out hurt more than he ever thought it would. Castiel was the only one who ever really knew him…or at least, that’s what Dean thought. Maybe it was half a lifetime ago, but still, he was the only one who ever got to really see past the walls. If Castiel saw him as some bargain bin copy of John Winchester, then what the hell was the point of anything…maybe Dean really was more fucked up than he had thought…

“Dean…” Castiel said quietly, trying to move back into his space, but Dean moved away, shaking his head and holding his hand out defensively, looking away as another tear went down his cheek. 

Dean’s mind was racing, part of him was thinking of escape plans, part of him was thinking of just doing what Cas wanted and getting the hell out of there, part of him wanted to punch the hell out of Cas until his nose was busted and bloody, and part of him just longed to have Cas to look at him like he used to…he wanted Cas to see him and understand…and to trust him again. He wanted Cas to show him that he wasn’t a piece of shit, that he wasn’t just his father’s little soldier. This was it, whatever he decided here would be a defining moment in his life and yet, he couldn’t move. Another fucking tear. 

Castiel moved forward again slowly, testing the waters, when Dean didn’t move away this time, he slowly lifted his hand to Dean’s cheek and wiped the tear trail away, “I shouldn’t have…you are nothing like him. You could never be like him.” Dean closed his eyes and let his forehead rest against Castiel’s. If it were anyone else, he would snap, he’d attack and scream and throw it all out the damn window, but even if he wasn’t sure he believed what Cas was saying, he wanted to hear it so badly. 

Dean let it stay quiet between them for a moment, just breathing, his mind too foggy and too torn to make any kind of decision, but Cas waited with him and let him figure it out. “Cas…let me do it.”

“Do what?” Cas moved just far enough away to look up at him. 

“Let me be the one to stay. You take the kid home, do what you can for him. The kids, Jack and Claire, they need you…and besides Benny likes me better anyway,” he forced a teasing smile, but it didn’t quite have the usual boyish charm. 

“Dean, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You don’t have to. I want to. I’ll sleep better knowing you and the others are safe. Besides, I wouldn’t know shit about how to help the kid. Killing Zombies, going on runs, drinking beers with the big burly mountain man? I can do that.” 

Castiel smiled weakly, still unsure about a lot of things, but clearly this was important to Dean and he wanted to trust him…or at least, he wanted to give him a chance to show them both just who he is now…perhaps to prove to them both just how unlike his father he is. With Dean’s temper and his shoot first attitude, it was a huge risk leaving him here as what more or less sounded like an ambassador for their partnership with Benny, but to be honest, even now, after all these years, he still couldn’t stand to see the man upset. Maybe Dean never really loved him the way Castiel had thought he had, and maybe their whole relationship had been some love-starved fluke based on a foundational misunderstanding of friendship, but that didn’t change the way Castiel had felt about him. Dean was his first love after all, and the mark Dean had left on him was deep. So, if Dean wanted to cover up his vulnerability with humor and bravado in order to try and do something truly heroic and good, Castiel could help him do that, “Should I be jealous of you being all alone with this…big…burly…mountain man?”

Dean looked down at Cas in surprise as goosebumps bloomed their way up his spine. Was Cas actually flirting with him? After all that? Suddenly, he didn’t know what the hell was happening: at this point he felt like he was on some kind of emotional roller coaster, and being someone who specifically didn’t do emotions made it all the more confusing. All he knew was that after thinking Cas didn’t want him around, seeing that beautiful, playful look and having him be so fucking close, felt absolutely perfect and he needed more. He really hoped Cas wasn’t just messing with him. 

Dean smiled, trying to look coy and failing dismally, as another fucking tear made its way down his cheek, “Oh, hell yeah you should. Let me remind you of what you’ve been missing out on, Novak.” They were so close already, it was easy for Dean to simply lick his lips and move in for a kiss. The cold air had chapped and cracked their lips, so the kiss was scratchy and a little painful, but so worth it. Cas pressed back immediately, and Dean hummed in response, keeping his mouth just slightly open, no pressure, but offering a subtle invite. Castiel didn’t take it, but he let his hand go to Dean’s forearm and he grasped him tightly. Dean carefully moved his arms around Castiel’s waist and pulled them flush together.

They were so lost in their own world that loud pounding on the window made them both jump. They looked over and saw Jody with an irritated smile and her brows raised, “You two done making out? It’s getting pretty cold out here.” 

Jody led them back to the lodge, then returned to her post. Benny and the whole group were sitting down to eat now. They had a pile of shredded meat, doused in a Jack Daniel’s spiked BBQ sauce, by the smell of it. They also had some oatmeal and fried pumpkin slices. It was a strange combination, but everything looked good. Benny smiled when he saw them and motioned for them to sit down in two empty seats next to him, “Well?”

The room got quiet as everyone looked at them nervously. “I’m gonna stay,” Dean stated. Benny grinned and began putting some meat on the empty plate in front of him. Andrea poured some cider for them into plastic cups. 

“Good, well, you can head out in the morning if you’d like, uhh, don’t believe I got your names yet,” Benny realized and gave an embarrassed chuckle. 

“Well, you probably thought you were gonna be killing us anyway, right? I’m Dean Winchester and this is Castiel Novak.”

“Pleasure. This is the crew, figure you’ll meet ‘em over time, no point in blurting out a bunch of names you’re not gonna remember tomorrow anyway.”

Dean smiled, he really did like this guy, even if he still thought the suspenders were ridiculous. 

“I think it would be best if Kevin and I left tonight, he needs treatment as soon as possible.”

“Cas, the sun is already down, just wait till morning, so you don’t both end up dead in a ditch, ok?”

Castiel sighed in defeat, “Fine, but at least let me get my truck, we have some supplies in there, I might at least be able to bring down his fever tonight so he can get some proper rest.” 

“Sure, we can drive you over to wherever you parked it right after dinner,” Benny offered and Castiel nodded with gratitude.

The meal was a bit awkward, at least for everyone but Benny. There were plenty of mixed feeling about this new partnership, especially after what had happened in White Bird, but Benny’s people trusted him and Dean trusted Castiel. 

After the meal was done, everyone seemed to go their own direction. Some were drinking at the bar, others were playing games, and a few were stuck cleaning up after dinner while Benny drove Dean and Cas to Castiel’s truck. They worked together to uncover it from the snow and branches that buried it, and brought it up to the dirt lot beside the lodge. Just like Castiel thought, he had tucked away some Tylenol in his emergency medical kit. While he went to tend to Kevin, Dean secured their preciously confiscated weapons back in the truck for Castiel to take him with him tomorrow. 

Castiel was given a medical mask and allowed down into the hatch. He gave the boy medicine and a cold rag for his forehead. Benny brought down a sleeping bag and together they helped Kevin get set up for the night as they explained the deal. Kevin was so far gone in his fever, that he barely responded. Andrea brought him some pumpkin soup and tea for him, but he had to be fed to take any of it down. Being together that long in the hatch, and seeing how kind Benny could be made Castiel want to ask about the caged walkers, but he refrained. It was far too early in their partnership to start bringing in moral judgement. 

Eventually, people began making their way upstairs to the mess of sleeping bags. Castiel and Dean were given one each and a small space to use in the corner of the room. They could hear the quiet sounds of the others in the room. Some snored quietly, others just seemed to breath loudly. 

Castiel was used to sleeping in a small space with a lot of people because of his time in the army, so he fell asleep rather quickly. Dean, however, was definitely not used to it. He stayed awake, looking at Cas through the faint light coming in from the cracks between boards on the window. He couldn’t stop thinking about their kiss. It scared him to admit it, but so much of him wanted to reach over and pull Cas closer…or at least just touch him. Fluke or not, something about Cas, even after 14 years, still had such an effect on him. He didn’t know what it meant, and hell, he wasn’t even completely sure what he wanted really. He figured he wanted Cas to see him the way he had before, but maybe he just wanted…. forgiveness…or approval…or some other obnoxious thing that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Either way, he knew that if he just left it like this and ran off to Canada with Sam, he would regret it. The kiss that day had felt so good, but he wasn’t naïve enough to think that meant they were all good. Clearly Cas didn’t completely trust him, and that was fair considering everything that had happened between them. But even despite everything Cas had said, the fact of the matter was that he had trusted him with this big trading partners mission, and Dean wasn’t going to let him down.


	9. One for the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean works with Benny's group.

Four days after the trade, Dean road shotgun with Benny in an old blue and white pickup, leading a small group to the dirt road by the paper mill in Lewiston. A surprising rainstorm had made the roads slick with slush and mud, but the old beater seemed used to this kind of treatment. Most of the snow on the way to Lewiston had melted, but they were still dressed in thick layers alternating between wool and athletic gear, all topped off with waterproof “ski shit” as Benny had called it. 

Dean relaxed comfortably on the worn-out seat, barely even noticing all the tears where the stuffing from inside was slipping out in small chunks. The heat was on, they had some classic rock on the tape deck, and Andrea had made them these warm buttery rum drinks to take with them. Dean took another swig, letting the sweet warmth spread through his chest, “So, like every fucking city in America, they banned fireworks, right?” Benny gave a melodic hm-hm along with a nod in response, encouraging Dean to keep going. “Fucking ridiculous. Anyway, back in the South Side, it became a sort of competition to see how many you could light off before the cops came.” Benny chuckled at that. “Oh, it doesn’t stop there, brother, from there, the game just gets more interesting. It’s all about how many fireworks you can shoot off while they are chasing you.”

“No shit?”

“No shit. So, me and Cas went out to the Indian reservation to get the good shit, came home with a huge fucking box of big ass fireworks, melt your face off fountains, light up the sky shit….and…. several boxes of roman candles.” Benny grinned, having some idea where this was going. “We tied up the fuses to all the big fireworks and the fountains together, and shot ‘em off by the river, near the end of the neighborhood where there was this sorta gravel area under the train tracks. Totally safe and shit, but damn the box burst open like it had a bomb in it. Then, there was like this fucking blinding sheet of blaring white light in front of us from all the fountains just merging together, and this like waterfall of sparks just pouring down over us. I was seeing spots for days.”

Benny smiled, clearly picturing it, “Sounds nice.”

“Oh, it was fucking epic. Needless to say, the cops came after us pretty fast, but we had our getaway car ready. My dad was in jail, as usual, so we had his car, fucking beautiful 1967 Chevy Impala, that thing still runs like a beast and it’s black as night, fucking perfect for getting away from the cops. So, we jump in, I get the car going and Cas grabs the boxes of roman candles and takes shot gun. We aren’t even down the street when he starts lighting ‘em up and launching little bursts at the cops. One of them actually swerved into a fire hydrant and busted it the fuck open.” Benny burst out laughing and Dean grinned wide.

“Now in a normal neighborhood, I have no idea what people would do about that, but South Side? People were out in the street in seconds; by that time of night on the 4th of July, everyone was drunk or high anyway, so they just started some music and were dancing in the street. I’m watching my rear-view mirror, and all I see is water flying out like a geyser and the cops from the busted-up car trying to herd everyone out of the street. Then, there is Cas, still launching at the remaining car with his Roman candles.”

“Now that sounds like a fucking party, brother,” Benny said, still chuckling.

“Hell, we may not know much, but we damn well know how to party down in the South Side of Chicago.”   
“They end up catching you?”

“Fuck no.” 

They went quiet for a moment and Dean’s mind wandering to how that night had ended. They were both full of adrenaline and victory, so they climbed up an old warehouse to watch the city fireworks from the roof. They both drank from one of his dad’s old flasks and shouted various versions of “fuck the police” and “god bless America” until their throats were sore and they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. He barely remembers seeing the city fireworks, but he could hear them crack the sky open like thunder as he rode hard and fast in Cas’ lap. They actually found an American flag condom for the occasion. Dean never felt so patriot.

They had planned to sleep up there, just curled up in the summer heat and each other, but around 3am it started pouring down rain- not the typical ‘oh hey it’s raining’ shit, the ‘oh look it’s like I showered in my fucking clothes’ shit. They both woke up in a shock, groggy and confused, and still slightly drunk, but the rain quickly sobered them up. They both sat up, their legs still tangled, and Cas started laughing, raising his face to let the rain fall down it. Dean looked at him like he was crazy, but seeing that pure, beautiful laugh, just made him want to laugh too. Soon, like two insane people, they were up there, completely doused, and laughing their asses off. After a while, the novelty wore off, and Dean pulled Cas back to the Impala. 

They took their clothes off and left them outside, because in Dean’s logic, that meant the seats wouldn’t get as badly soaked. That was the day they also fucked in the Impala for the first time. There was something that felt extra victorious about that. 

“So, you guys together then?” Benny asked and Dean blushed, shaking off his memories.

“What? No,” Dean snapped a bit louder than he had intended, it was something of a reflex at this point.

“Oh? I just meant, well, Jody told me she saw you guys…you know?” Benny waved his hand back and forth and Dean instantly knew he was talking about the kiss. He felt his heart sink into his gut, leaving him hallow and shaky, but ready for a fight as Benny continued, “I uhh..I’ve been avoiding the subject, for privacy and what not, but I figured we are at a pretty good place now. Hell, to be honest, you’ve only been here a couple days and I already think of you like my second in command, brother. I don’t want you to feel like you gotta hide anything. This may have been a red as all hell state, but with the world what it is now, not too many people give a shit about anything beyond whether your alive or dead. Least, not that I’ve seen. I’ll be honest, not everyone with us is what I’d call “decent folk,” hell those two you took out back in White Bird, I can’t say I miss ‘em. But alive is alive and while we can, it’s best to live our lives the way we want, ain’t it?” 

Dean blushed and looked out the window to hide it, trying to focus on what he now knew was the ‘Snake river’ as it wound it’s way through the bare, brown hills that led to the Lewiston valley. Benny gave an airy sigh, “You don’t gotta talk about it if you don’t want to, I just wanted to tell you, I’m cool with whatever.” 

“Well, that’s all well and good, but I’m not gay,” Dean snapped briskly, it almost felt like a reflex at this point. 

“Alright.”

They rode in relative silence after that while Dean ran through the many reasons why he couldn’t possibly be gay-gay, and how it was obviously just Cas, or something. Maybe also Doctor Sexy, but fictional characters didn’t count right? Then there was Gunner, his favorite wrestler… and that one cute blonde cop…and the other cute blonde cop…. fuck. But those were all people he couldn’t ever actually be with. Lot’s of people had stupid fantasy crushes on celebrities and that didn’t make them one thing or another. It’s not like he would ever actually sleep with them even if he had the chance. Hell, he’s pretty sure he DID have the chance with at least one of those cops and he didn’t go for it. Plus, there were also a lot of hot women out there, many of which he HAD slept with and he clearly enjoyed fucking them or it wouldn’t have worked, right? Things with Cas were just different…but that could have been for all kinds of reasons. Like…feelings or something. Then again, Cas was ridiculously attractive. The more Dean thought about it the more confused and uncomfortable he felt about it until he finally put his focus on something else.  
He got his gun ready, scanning across the river to see the hoard still moving its way right passed them and up north, like Benny had planned. Without the bridge, there were two main paths that could leave them open, one backroad from what Benny called “the orchards” and this road that went passed the old papermill. The closer they got to it, the worse the air began to smell. Dean cringed a bit, and Benny laughed, “It’s the mill. Thing hasn’t been blowing smoke for a long time, but the smell still seems to linger here.”

“And people lived here?”

“Yup…apparently, you don’t smell it if you’re here all the time. Those of us that only came in now and then though, woo-boy, it was one hell of a reason to make sure the shopping got done quick.” Dean grinned imagining Benny rushing Andrea down the aisles of some tiny hick-ass version of a mall, grumbling all the way. 

Benny pulled the truck up and hopped out, with Dean close behind him. From their own trucks, several others joined them. Benny gave a polite smile looking his people over, “Alright, it’s just like we talked about, Garth, Ash, Meg, and Donna, you four are gonna be putting together some traps to block off the road right up here, a few feet in front of the trucks. I want several layers going of spikes, traps, a barricade, whatever you can manage, and Ash, use the terrain alright? Its our best damn weapon out here.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Meg gave a sarcastic two finger salute. Benny ruffled her hair and she batted him off. She was one of those hood girls that acted like they didn’t care, when they actually did. Still, she was brave and occasionally hilarious, not that Dean would ever admit that to her. 

“We got it covered, don’t you worry,” Donna added in, Dean was convinced she was made of actual sunshine. How that woman had been a sheriff was beyond comprehension. 

“I’ll go survey for materials, be back,” Ash added, walking off with a notebook and a machete. Dean liked Ash: he was relaxed as hell…and he had a mullet. An honest to god mullet. Plus, as if he needed more than the mullet, the guy was brilliant- went to MIT or something. Still, for being some math nerd, he had a hell of a swinging arm. 

“Jody, Gordon, Cole, and Dean, you’re with me. Let’s go clean the mill out, shall we?” 

“Finally,” Gordon was practically grinning ear to ear, talk about being way too eager. From what Dean had gathered, the guy was a little too into hunting. Apparently, his whole family had been competitive on a national level or something…which Dean hadn’t even known was a thing. What was even weirder was that the guy talked about killing walkers the same way he talked about hunting animals. Dean hadn’t really thought much about walkers before, as far as he saw it they were just a threat that had to be dealt with, but something about the way Gordon talked about them rubbed him the wrong way. The walkers in the cage thing had apparently been his idea too. Dean couldn’t help but wonder if maybe some of what Cas had said had gotten to him a little bit because Gordon seriously weirded him out when ordinarily he’d get along great with someone who was so action oriented… 

It was a bit of a walk to the mill. On the way, they passed a large reservoir with several walkers that seemed to be stuck in the mud, and several large empty fields, but eventually they reached the main building. To one side was the river and to the other side was a massive maze of stacked up logs that never got processed; then, there in between, was the musty, forest-green factory, towering above them like a faded and blocky version of the Emerald City. “Let’s split up,” Benny called out, “Jody, Gordon, and Cole, you take inside. Stick together and move slow, there are a lot of narrow spaces in there between the machines, use it to your advantage.”

“Right, chief, I’ll keep ‘em in line,” Jody teased, and Gordon rolled his eyes while Cole seemed to pout. Benny nodded and watched them head in before heading towards the log area with Dean. 

Dean had never seen this many logs in one place, he wondered how many houses they could make out of all of it. Not that he really had any idea of how to build a house, but it couldn’t be that hard right? If nothing else, he supposed they’d never run out of firewood. As they neared the log maze, he heard moaning and stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes flashed to Benny. Benny nodded and pulled out his machete. Dean followed in line and went with his hunting knife instead of his gun, it would be better not to draw attention until they had assessed the situation. Benny motioned for him to go through one path while he took the other. 

Quietly, Dean moved into the maze of log piles and followed the sound of moaning, making sure to turn corners slowly and keep his knife up at the ready. He found his first walker ambling towards him from far down the aisle. One of his legs was twisted at the knee, making his walking even more uneven than ordinary walkers. He wore overalls, an ID badge, and a hardhat; since he was obviously an employee, that unfortunately meant Dean would have to deal with a lot more hardhats throughout the day. Hardhats certainly didn’t make things impossible, but they could make them tricky. He neared the walker and looked at the ID. Once the man was a bit plain looking and covered with early 20’s acne. Now a large chunk of his nose was gone. 

“Hey there Todd, bad day at work, huh?” Dean teased almost sympathetically as he moved in quick and shoved the large knife under the walker’s chin and up through his skull, into his brain. Todd must have turned a while ago considering how soft everything was. With a slick movement he pulled the knife out and looked around taking another turn as the walker fell to the ground behind him. 

He found a couple more down the next aisle, together this time and both with hardhats. Dean let out a slow breath and considered the situation, looking around for a plan. When he had one, he caught their attention with a quick, “Hey!” and took a turn down a narrow side aisle, hoping one would be a bit faster than the other, so he could separate them out and take one at a time. Dean surged ahead down this new aisle, constantly looking back to the opening behind him as he pushed for a strong head start. Suddenly, without warning, dark grey, rotted arms, shot out and started lunching and grabbing at him desperately. Dean was caught off guard and quickly batted at the arms, suddenly hearing gurgling behind him as the arms scratched and clawed out eagerly to tangle and ensnare him. Finally, after he finally had his bearings, he batted them off enough to duck down and roll out of reach. When he looked back, he saw a walker impaled on a stack of logs, the bottom half of its jaw was missing, and so was the bottom half of its body. Its legs and hips had long fallen off into a puddle on the ground, covered in guts and organs, but its upper torso remained upright and clearly starving. He cringed and raised his knife to finish it when he noticed movement from the corner of his eye: the other two were catching up behind him. His plan hadn’t worked, they were about the same speed and wandering towards him together. 

Dean went low and quickly grabbed the first walker around the waist and threw it towards the one stuck on the logs, hoping they would entangle themselves long enough for him to finish the other one. Unfortunately, the opposite happened, and the walker quickly managed to get pushed back towards him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dean grunted as he jumped backwards to avoid it and nearly hit the other walker that had still been stumbling behind him. He jerked his body away from it, still mid jump, and ended up tripping over his own feet. One walker collapsed on him, all teeth and hallowed grey eyes. Dean’s heart caught in his chest as he tried to swat its helmet off to knife it in the temple, but the helmet was stuck fast and he couldn’t aim under the helmet while still trying to keep its mouth and arms at a distance. 

Soon the second walker was on him as well. At this point, he was stuck merely trying to keep their snapping jaws from tearing into him; he couldn’t even get an attack in. His mind was racing and praying for ideas, but nothing was coming to him other than the fact that this was it. This tiny little bullshit mission was going to end him all because he hadn’t been paying attention and he had gotten cocky. 

He heard a strong snap of teeth near his ear as he squirmed and twisted, their heavy combined weight pinning him to the ground. He swallowed hard and struggled to get out from under them, dropping his knife in the process and merely trying to grip their melting flesh well enough to push them off, but each time he grabbed a shoulder, the flesh and bones snapped from their bodies, knocking them closer to him. He couldn’t stop thinking about his family now: about Sam…and Cas. Hell, even the kids. What was going to happen to all of them now? Would Benny take them in? His father’s words seemed to ring in his ears ‘worthless,’ ‘weak’. 

That’s when he heard the whistling. Dean closed his eyes and fought hard, he knew hope was close. In moments, Benny was on one of the walkers, pulling it up by the helmet and stabbing his machete through the base of its skull. Without all the weight on him, Dean rolled to the side and grabbed his knife before rushing to stab the other through the eye. Looking down at them, he finally let himself breath, only just realizing how long he had been holding his breath. 

“Never thought I’d be that happy to hear your damn whistling.” 

Benny gave an airy chuckle and clapped him on the shoulder. While Dean caught his breath, Benny hacked the impaled walker through the top of the skull, letting the blade sink down through the soft tissue. “Ready for more, brother?”

Dean nodded and followed Benny further through the aisles. 

This time they stayed close together. Fighting back to back with Benny was surprisingly easy from the get go. They just seemed to move in step with each other. Benny’s whistling was probably part of it, it always let Dean know where he was and eventually Dean was sure he started to figure out what certain tempos and pitches meant. Of course, Dean may have just been imagining those patterns. They slashed their way through several more aisles, easily taking out the lurking employees until they reached the end of the maze and were left looking out at the green houses. Fortunately, mostly machines took care of the trees while the mill was still running, so there were very few employees wandering around there. They made their way through each tree nursery and easily cleaned them out. 

They were on the last one when they heard they heard Jody screaming at them. They both looked over to see her running out of the mill towards them, “Benny! We gotta go!” 

Benny and Dean shared a look and rushed out to meet her. “What the hell is going on in there?” 

Jody was panting, “Gordon broke formation, there were too many, Cole is dead, Gordon killed him, and we have a hell of a lot of company coming that the others aren’t ready for.” 

Dean heard several shots coming from inside the mill and assumed it must have been Gordon. Crazy fucker. He knew the guy was a psychopath, but to kill his own people? What kind of piece of shit would do that? Benny cursed under his breath and ran back towards the trucks. Jody and Dean ran after him. As they passed the main building of the mill they saw walkers pouring out after them.

Jody fired a few shots as she ran, and the boys quickly pulled their own pistols out, following in suit. They each took down a few, but for every walker that fell, three more seemed to come from the mill, tripping and pushing their way down the stairs and out into the fields. 

The group ran passed the fields and the reserve, back towards where the others were setting up spike traps and a barricade. By the time they got there, Dean felt soaked through with sweat and a bit nauseous from overheating in all his layers. 

“We’re leaving. Pack this shit up, we’ll come back when shit settles down again.”

“We aren’t done yet though, bro. Can’t really leave it like this can we?” Ash slurred, clearly confused. 

“Where are the others?” Donna asked and Jody looked away. There were more gun shots and they all looked back towards the mill. There were easily around a hundred walkers now, though they were still near the fields by the mill.

“What the fuck? Who the hell is still back there?” Meg asked Jody.

“Gordon. He broke formation and brought way too many down on us at once, then he shoved Cole to the walkers like he was just setting out bait for one of his traps. Needless to say, I left his crazy ass.” 

“Seriously? Boss-ass cop lady couldn’t handle the heat, huh?”

“Fuck off, Meg. You see what’s out there? Gordon was insane.” 

Meg put her hands up in a mocking shrug. 

“Enough, get in the trucks, we are taking off. Now!” Benny barked out.

“Wait, we got my assault rifle in the back, right? Maybe, I could jump in the back of the truck and we could hang out by the reservoir, cover these guys till they finish?” 

“We’d be sacrificing the truck, can’t exactly leave a giant truck sized hole in the wall and call it good.” Ash mentioned, and Benny thought it over. 

“No, save the bullets. The sound of that thing might echo through the hills and attract the herd on the other side of the river…might bring them back down south and that is not a risk we can take. Gordon got himself in this mess, he sacrificed Cole for his games, we all know what he’s like. We’re leaving. We’ll come back tomorrow and see what the situation is. If it comes down to it, we can take them out, but we are gonna do it quietly. We can’t lose anyone else.” Everyone exchanged nervous glances, but finally seemed to be on board. 

Ash ran his fingers through his glorious mullet, “Well, wasn’t a total waste of time, at least I have a better idea of what I’m working with. Bet I can come up with something better for the barricade with an extra day to think, too.” 

“Way to be positive, Ash,” Meg teased as she gave a playful punch to his arm and headed to her truck. 

It was quiet on the way back to the ski lodge. Benny was clearly trying to figure out what to do about the mill. They could have stayed and gotten a bit more work on the barricade done, but Dean supposed after the loss of Cole, he hadn’t wanted to take anymore chances without re-evaluating the situation. 

When they got to Grangeville, Dean looked at the road heading towards White bird. He hoped they were all ok, he wanted to go back and check on them, but he knew Benny wouldn’t allow it. Even if they were cool now, a deal was a deal. He would just have to wait to see when Castiel came back…either with the kid or a corpse. It was stupid, he hadn’t even been there long, but that little cabin had felt like home in a way his actual home never really felt like. He wanted to go back…he actually missed it. But there was no point in focusing on it when he couldn’t do anything about it. In the meantime, he figured maybe Benny needed some distraction too, Dean had given him more than enough time to think and dwell. 

“So, uh, you OK?” Dean asked, breaking the silence.

“I guess. Lost two men today and who knows what is gonna happen at the mill while we’re gone. Could go back and find the damn place overrun.”

“We could go get my rocket launcher,” Dean suggested, more seriously than he let on. 

“Why am I not surprised that you have one of those.”

“My father was a weapons dealer…amongst other things.” 

“Ah, no wonder you are full of so many damn useful talents.”

Dean laughed, “Yeah, he made sure I knew my shit, so I didn’t get swindled on the deals. I know how to pull pretty much any firearm apart and put it back together blind, I knew what they were all worth, knew how to clean them after an…incident. Dad taught me how to shoot and steal…and fight…and drink…pretty much everything about being a man, you know? Crazy to think about considering he was in and out of the slammer most of my life.” 

Benny nodded, “Still sounds pretty nice, having him around at all I mean. My father was a sailor. Didn’t see him much. He went straight from the Navy to a fishing boat in Alaska. Mama said he musta been a pirate in another life or some shit to hear the ocean call for him that hard.” 

“That why you became a sailor?” Dean asked curiously, a brow lifted. 

“The coat gave me away, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Well, to be honest, I wasn’t in the Navy, just stole this coat. I was a smuggler for a while though.”

“No shit? Damn, too bad you didn’t trade in Chicago, bet we woulda been in business together.”

Benny grinned, “Now that woulda been a sight.”

“We woulda ran that joint.” 

“Hell yeah, brother,” he paused for a long moment before continuing, “so, was Cas in on this crime lord shit, too?”

“Huh? Oh, not really, not like we were, but he was still South Side. We all sorta did whatever we had to. Like, uh, one time, I was living with Cas for a couple weeks,” Dean paused, realizing what that sounded like and backed up to explain, “because my brother was at some stupid summer camp and my old man was in prison…I didn’t really feel like hanging out by myself at home just to deal with dad’s crew trying to pull me into their shit all the time.” Benny gave an understanding nod and Dean continued, “Anyway, Cas’s house was big, but not big enough for 6 fucking kids plus my freeloading ass. I mean that guy shared a room with two of his brothers. They were barely fucking getting by, and yet somehow, their piece of shit dad found their stash of bill money and without a fucking care in the world, went and spent it on coke. So, the prick is like off who knows where and the electricity gets shut off. Here is where it gets ridiculous, apparently, these fuckers are so used to it, they break out the goddamn candles and shit, which is fine I guess, but that summer we had a fucking heat wave like you would not believe. I was basically boiling in my own juices if you know what I mean. Didn’t help that Cas’ younger brother was just hitting puberty.”

Benny laughed, clearly remembering the horrible stench of puberty as Dean continued, “Anyway, no way the family was gonna have money to get the power back on for a while…so I decided to help out. They were nice enough to let me crash for free after all. So, I figured, the fastest way to get the money would be to steal a car.”

“You are fucking kidding me.”

“Nope,” Dean said with a pop on the p. Dean still remembered the look on Cas’s face when he first suggested they steal a car. Priceless. “Cas was against it at first, he was worried about getting a felony because he wanted into the military, but when he realized they weren’t gonna make rent either, he got on board through pure desperation.”

“Ah, the tale of a poor kid pulled into a life of crime, so sad.”

“Oh yeah, poor, sweet Cas really shoulda stayed away from me. But I am pretty irresistible.” 

“Of course.”

“Anyway, I knew this guy that turned cars pretty frequently, so I called him up, got a hit, and we headed to the north side to go hunting around the bars and clubs. Took a couple hours, but then there it was, a brand new, sporty as fuck, black XJ200 Jaguar. Back then, that shit was like Batmobile worthy.” 

Dean could still remember how it shined in the colored lights decorating the side of the bar, “Ok, Cas, you just keep an eye out while I get it going. You see anyone, just say the codeword, ok?” 

Cas squinted at Dean through the darkness of the crowded club parking lot, his arms firmly crossed over his chest, “Why exactly does the codeword have to be…ugh I’m not saying it.”

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed Cas’s elbows, pulling him close, with a big grin on his face, “Oh, come on, Cas. That B movie last night was amazing, and you know it. Just say it.” 

“One, that B movie was anything but amazing, and two…” Dean gave a flirty pout and batted his long eyelashes, and Cas rolled his eyes, “fine.” Dean’s grin widened as he moved in closer to hear Cas say, “Werepire.” 

“Yes! Ok, so, you stay on watch, and I’ll tell you when we are ready to hit the bat cave.”

“Fine, go on. Make it fast, ok?” 

Dean didn’t bother telling Cas that his cousin was only a block away, just in case shit went down. Cas didn’t need to see behind ALL the smoke and mirrors, after all. 

Dean’s contact had given him information about the best way to break in, but Dean wasn’t exactly an expert car thief. He had only done it a couple times when money was extra tight. Originally, John had used this contact for a wide variety of things from simple car repair to re-plating and registering cars after a chase. But it wasn’t until Dean overheard the mechanic on the phone about a deal that he realized the other potential this contact had. John himself took cars when he needed to, but he wasn’t really interested in flipping them on the regular. That meant this was a spot Dean could take just for himself whenever he wanted to. He had to admit, it was intense and exciting, but maybe also a little nerve wrecking. Still, whatever needed to be done, Dean would do it. 

He trembled a bit at first and had to shake his hands out a few times, but he took a deep breath and refocused himself. He had some experience getting locks open, so that part wasn’t too bad, but even if he was more experienced at hot wiring, it was hard to do with the pressure of the car alarm blinking and shrieking at him. As he sparked the wires together, he whispered, “Come on, come on, baby.” When the engine burst to life, Dean felt the pressure ease and the excitement build.

He pushed the side door open and leaned out towards where Cas was waiting, “Let’s go, Robin.”

Cas looked around a few more times before getting in. Dean drove sanely for a while, just to make sure they got out of the area without drawing attention, but once they hit the backroads leading back down to the south side, he gunned it. Cas grabbed the arm rest and seemed to push himself further into the chair as his eyes widened. Dean laughed, patted Cas’ thigh, and turned up the radio, screaming along to “The Boys are Back in Town.”

“I doubt they will pay us for a wrecked car, Dean!” Cas shouted, but Dean just screamed the song louder. He let the car slide and drift around turns as he flew through town. Cas glared at him disapprovingly for a while, but with a quick, playful hit to the gut, and Dean’s terrible, but enthusiastic singing, Cas finally cracked a smile. It wasn’t long until he was screaming along to the music too and laughing for no reason other than that he was enjoying the ride.

When they got to the garage, Dean’s guy took a look at it while the two sat on the sidelines watching.

“Dean…would you teach me how to steal cars? I mean…just the breaking in and hotwiring part. You never know when you might need skills like that. Even in the army, it could save my life someday.” 

“Oh yeah? Alright, if you want. We can practice on baby or something.” Cas smiled and casually bumped his shoulder against Dean’s. Dean smiled, but he kept his distance, after all, as much as Dean liked to think of these people as his contacts…they were really John’s.

“Good work Winchester, your cut. Let me know when you need more work,” the man said as he handed a large wad of hundreds into Dean’s hand, and without a moment to pause, Dean turned and held it out for Castiel.

“All of it? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, what else did we do this for? Get me some goddamn air conditioning,” Dean teased, trying to play it off, but something felt really good being able to take care of Castiel and his family. 

But things got a little crazy the next morning. Dean woke up early and headed downstairs for breakfast, but stopped halfway on the stairs when he heard Castiel and Anna talking in the kitchen.

“Seriously? Where did he get this kinda money?”

“It doesn’t matter, put it somewhere Chuck won’t ever find it. It should keep us covered till October or so.”  
“Guess I was wrong about him…Winchester or not, he’s alright. Maaaaybe even good enough for my little brother.”

“Stop.”

Anna laughed, “Fine. But really, tell him thanks when he wakes up. He can stay however long he wants.”

“Thanks Anna.” 

Anna knew. Dean went into a complete melt down panic, if she knew that meant the whole damn household could know about them…hell, even Chuck might know about them. If that was true, how long would it be until his dad found out? Even in prison there was no way something that big wouldn’t get to him. His father could end up busting out just to ring his neck over it. As it often does, his fear built into anger and feelings of betrayal. How could Castiel tell her? Didn’t he realize what would happen? Didn’t he care? He marched downstairs, ready to scream at Cas and threaten Anna into silence, but even he couldn’t do it when they both just looked up at him with the same fucking surprised, innocent smile. 

Anna winked at him, “Morning, Dean. Take a seat, I’ll get breakfast started.” She pulled out eggs from the fridge and started looking through cabinets for a clean bowl. 

Once she was whisking away at them, Dean finally managed to pull himself together enough to get down the rest of the stairs. He grabbed Cas by the shoulder and pulled him back halfway up the stairs, and snapped, trying to keep his voice down, “Did you tell her?”

Cas’ smile fell, “She…suspected. I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want anyone to know…”

Dean’s eyes were wild and terrified now, “Does anyone else know?”

“I don’t think so…no. Even if they did, my family wouldn’t care, and they won’t say anything…you don’t have to worry about it…”

“Cas, you don’t know what my father will do if he finds out. I’m not kidding when I’m saying he’ll kill me. He will. Probably you too. Please, no one else can know.”

“Ok…I’ll make sure Anna is careful about it…I’m sorry.”

Dean gripped his short spikey hair, tearing at it for a moment before letting his arm dash forward, jabbing into the wall and knocking away a chunk of old paint. Cas’ backed up, his eyes wide and alert. “Fuck, I’m sorry…” Dean pursed his lips and turned away, not wanting to see Cas’ fear or disappointment. He knew this was too good, he knew he couldn’t have it. It was bound to happen that he would fuck it up sooner or later. “Fuck…” He said once more, quietly this time, and slowly Cas’ soft hands slipped around his waist and his lips landed on the base of his neck, right over his spine. 

“Sit down and let me make you some coffee…you’re basically a bear in the morning without it.” Cas kissed the spot on his spine again. Dean let the tension go as he melted against Cas, giving a small nod. 

After around 15 minutes, Anna called the whole house down for eggs, ketchup, and watered-down orange juice. It was a madhouse in the morning and the dinning table was crowded with everyone elbow to elbow, but it was awesome. They really were all so happy, and somehow Dean had found himself actually a part of it. 

“You OK, brother?” Benny asked and Dean shook the memories off.

“Yeah, the car landed us a few grand, it all worked out. But uh, south side or not, Cas picked up more skills from the army, I guess.” 

“Both sound pretty useful.”

“Yeah, maybe.” 

That night, back at the lodge, Dean couldn’t stop thinking about eating at the cabin with Cas, Sam, and the kids. It had felt the same way it did when he ate at the Novak house. It felt like what family should feel like: like a team ready to fight all the bullshit of the world together. He wanted so bad to be back with them as he sat eating his meal, sitting next to Benny, only half listening to the conversation going on around him. He guessed it was about what had happened, but he couldn’t really bring himself to be all in. 

He kept running through memories in his head. Even before John had caught them, they hadn’t been a perfect couple. Cas was intrinsically different than Dean. He wanted to help people and sacrifice himself to the cause, he also wanted them to be a “real couple that doesn’t hide,” he even wanted Dean to make something of himself and try in school. In contrast, Dean wanted Cas to give up on the military shit that was gonna get him killed, he also knew he absolutely could not just come out as being with Cas, and as far as he saw it, it was already a bit late to do well in school. As it turned out, Dean didn’t need school anyway, not hiding better nearly got Cas killed, and the army fucked him up pretty badly. 3 for 3 was pretty damn good. He decided he owed Cas a few “I told you so’s.” 

Still, even for their differences, Dean had so much respect for Cas. Sometimes, back then, part of him had wanted to just run away with Cas. Not that either of them could leave their families. But, he would dream about taking the Impala in the middle of the night, picking up Cas, and just driving the fuck to Mexico where they could get new names and just live it up on the beach drinking margaritas in the sun all day. Dean had never even been to the beach. Now that he thought about, he still hadn’t. 

In the end, he always messed things up though, nothing he did had ever been good enough. Sam had gotten taken into foster care multiple times despite all his hard work, his father never saw him as good enough and even when John broke out of jail the last time he didn’t bother to come back home, no one in the business saw Dean as comparable to his father, and Cas…Cas didn’t even really trust him. Even that kiss was probably just to calm him down. He wanted to protect them…and he wanted them to trust him and just…see him. But how the hell were they supposed to do that when there was nothing to see? Nothing but a faded reflection of John Winchester.


	10. The B-Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel brings Kevin home.

When Cas’ truck roared into the driveway, Claire and Sam dropped everything and ran out to meet him while Jack wobbled out onto the porch behind them with his temporary, home-made crutch. Cas cut the engine and quickly jumped out, his boots crushing the snow beneath him as he shouted, “Claire, stop! Don’t come any closer. Get Jack and wait in your room until I tell you to come out.”

Claire slowed to a stop and looked at him with a torn mixture of confusion and worry, “Did something happen? Are you ok?”

“Now, Claire. Go.” She hesitated for a moment, but finally nodded and ran back to the porch, putting her arm under her brother’s shoulder and helping him back inside as his crutch fell, abandoned on the ground. 

Sam had stopped in his tracks at the command as well. He and Cas looked at each other tentatively while they waited for the teenagers to make it back inside. When the door finally shut behind them, Cas took a breath, “Sam, could you help me.” 

Sam’s heart caught in his throat as he finally allowed the realization to solidify in his mind: Dean wasn’t in the passenger seat. Every step closer to the truck filled him with fear. All he could imagine was Dean’s broken body crumbled in the backseat, possibly already dead. His fiercely protective, ridiculously brave older brother, the only person that had always stood by him, was gone or badly hurt…and for what? By the time he reached the truck he was shaking with a whirlwind of anger, guilt, and dread. He took a deep breath as he allowed himself to look in the backseat. 

Quickly, Sam backed up, away from the truck, and looked at Castiel with accusation, “Who the hell is that and where’s Dean?” 

Castiel put his hands up, “I’ll explain everything later, but for now can you please just-“

“No, where is he? Where is my brother? Is he ok?!”

“Yes, he’s fine, I promise you, but please, this boy’s fever is so high he’s been delusional all morning, can you help me get him inside? I _will_ explain everything, Sam.”

Sam’s face tensed as he ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at it slightly as if to release some of his anger, “Fine…”

Sam scooped Kevin up in his arms and carried him into the house while Castiel pulled supplies from the back of his truck. The boy was light and he looked young; his eyes were half open though he clearly had no focus, he was pale and covered in sweat, and each of his breaths were short shaky gasps, “Mother…” The quiet cry broke Sam’s heart. 

He laid him down on Castiel’s bed. Castiel put some supplies on his bedside table, then went down to the basement to start looking for stronger medication while Sam got a cold wet rag for Kevin’s forehead.

Kevin’s head was swimming with heat; it was like the entire world was rocking back and forth, blurring, and tipping sideways. His muscles and sinuses ached, his nose wouldn’t stop running, and his eyes could barely stay open. No matter how much he tried, it never felt like he had enough oxygen in his lungs and even his ears felt stuffy, like he had water stuck in them. Suddenly, he was covered with impossibly heavy blankets. He felt trapped and helpless. Then there was a shock of cold on his forehead and voices as they propped him up. He tried to push them away, but he had no strength and instead flopped like a doll in their arms. 

Sam held Kevin up as Castiel tipped his head slightly back and pushed his fingers into Kevin’s mouth to work it open. At this point Kevin had little strength or awareness, so his mouth opened pliantly, and saliva ran down his chin. Castiel carefully put one pill in his mouth, and then brought water to his lips. It took a moment, but with a lot of gentle coaxing, he finally got Kevin to swallow. 

Castiel picked up the next pill and brought it to Kevin’s mouth, “I can figure out a proper medication regimen later, for now the priority has to be getting his fever down.” Sam nodded as he listened, “Once it’s down, I can start getting his strength back up with soups and teas... he’s going to need a bedpan, too. He can barely stand up, much less go outside…and he needs to be isolated, so the kids don’t get it,” then Castiel’s eyes flickered up to Sam’s, “Even you shouldn’t be in here…the less exposure the better, go wait for me in the living room, I’ll be out in a moment. I just want to take his temperature and see if I can figure out what some of his other symptoms are. The more we know, the easier it will be to pick medications for him.” 

Sam gently laid Kevin back down and adjusted the washcloth on his forehead, “Alright, I think I saw some hand sanitizer downstairs, I’ll get you some for when you’re done.”

“Thank you, Sam. If you notice any medical masks, that would be helpful as well. If not, I may need to make a run to the local clinic.”

About a half hour later, Castiel came out of the room. It was barely noon and he looked exhausted. He went to clean himself up and then joined Sam in the living room. Sam tossed him a small pocket-sized hand sanitizer bottle and Castiel quickly rubbed a dallop of the sanitizer over his hands; it had an inappropriately fresh melon scent. 

He took a seat on the chair next to the sofa where Sam was sitting, “I owe you an explanation.” Sam sat attentively, and that’s when Castiel noticed that Sam was fidgeting with the Impala’s keys. Castiel wondered if he was holding them because they brought him some sort of comfort or if Sam actually planned to try and go after his brother- even knowing that the Impala wouldn’t make the trip. 

Castiel licked his lips and looked towards the window, “He’s at a ski lodge just outside of Grangeville. We found the other group there and we spoke to them about becoming trading partners. To build trust, we made a deal…Kevin would come home with me, so we could try and help him, and in the meantime, Dean would stay and work with them. When we take Kevin back, Dean comes home with us and we have new trading partners.”

Sam looked at him in disbelief, “How exactly do you know that they’re trustworthy? I mean, bringing Kevin here is basically like chemical warfare and Dean could already be dead for all we know. If they were serious about working with us there had to be another way to establish trust that didn’t end with my brother being left on his own with them. Why the hell did you agree to this? Why did Dean?” 

Castiel lifted a brow curiously, “Sam, I thought you supported us in trying to find a peaceful solution?”

“I did, I do…but, not like this. Not when it puts everyone in danger. I believe in people and I want to give them a fair chance, but we have to be smart about it. People are desperate and afraid, and when people are desperate and afraid they do terrible things,” Sam slowed down and took a breath, “I do think that talking to them was the right call, people should be working together…but…what happens if Kevin doesn’t get better? How do we know that they didn’t just send him with us to die while they take their revenge by killing Dean and hoping Kevin’s flu takes the rest of us out? How do we know that this deal is even genuine?” Sam gripped the keys tighter. 

Castiel considered his points and then spoke with a calm even tone, “I don’t know anything for sure. I know that isn’t comforting to hear, but the only thing I can do is ask that you trust our decision. These people don’t seem like bad people, Sam. I believe that they can be trusted. Dean even seemed to really get along with their leader. If you need to, you can go there and speak to your brother yourself, but I’d be lying if I said that I couldn’t use your help here.”

Sam looked him over and thought about it. With Castiel taking care of Kevin, and Jack still healing from the gunshot, that only left Claire to go on runs, hunt, and cook by herself. The family would really need him around to help, and to be fair, Dean was more than capable of taking care of himself. If anything, going to visit would probably just piss Dean off. Still, he couldn’t help but feel worried about his brother. He wished he had been there to meet the group with them, maybe he could have helped them make a better deal, or at least if he had met them he would have a better idea of whether or not they were really trustworthy. Still, he hadn’t been there and that couldn’t be changed now. If both Dean and Castiel thought this group could be trusted, then he had to believe in them and support them. 

Sam got up and pushed his long hair from his face, “I’ll hit up that clinic, see if I can find some masks, maybe a bedpan...can I borrow the truck?” 

Castiel smiled gratefully, “Of course. Thank you, I’ll go explain to the kids…” 

It took another 2 days, but after careful tending, Kevin’s fever finally went down. He was well enough to sit up and talk, but he still had a sinus infection, horrible coughing fits, and his muscles still felt sore and weak. Castiel continued to take care of him personally, while Sam took over runs, and Claire took over cooking dinner- typically making whatever she could catch or hunt that day, which consequently led to several days of deer meat in a row.

“Here you go,” Castiel said as he offered Kevin a bowl of soup on a tray with his next dose of medicine. 

“Thanks,” Kevin still had very little appetite, but at least now he didn’t feel nauseous every time he tried to eat. He took a spoonful of the soup and blew on it a couple of times before bringing it to his mouth. He took the medicine next, and swallowed it down with the soup. 

“Kevin, do you feel up to talking for a bit?” 

“Sure…I guess.”

“Can you tell me about yourself? How did you end up with Benny’s group?”

“I uhh, I’m from Spokane, originally. I was in high school when it all happened, advanced placement.” Castiel smiled at the flash of pride on Kevin’s face, “It was just me and my mom. We held up for as long as we could, but we knew we had to get out of the city. We headed down this way, and heard about a camp in Lewiston from some randoms we ran into in Moscow. They told us that people were holding up at the bullet factory and setting up some big trading thing along the river. We figured we’d check it out. It was nice, as far as post-apocalyptic camps go. Pretty red-neck military, but safe enough. My mom didn’t like it though, she knew places like that wouldn’t last…said they didn’t care about the people enough. Her parents were-” Kevin coughed deeply several times, holding a hand to his chest as the coughs hit him like rapid punches along his rib cage. Castiel quickly took the tray off his lap to keep the soup from spilling until Kevin regained control of himself again. 

“Sorry,” Kevin took a long drink from the bowl and set it down again, “Anyway, like I was saying, her parents were in a camp during the war, they were mistaken for Japanese citizens, so based on what they taught her, she was kinda wary of places with big fences and little respect for individual rights.”

“Sounds like a smart woman.”

“Oh yeah. So, we started keeping a look out for something better to come around, and one-day, low and behold, Benny and some of his group came through to trade. My mom watched them for a while and liked what she saw, she said they seemed legit, so she talked to him about taking us in. We didn’t have anything to offer, but he took us in anyway. Been with him ever since.”

“I see, I didn’t notice your mother there…I find it hard to believe she would have allowed them to put you in the basement like that- contagious or not. Was she out?”

Kevin chewed at his lip, “My mom…went down on a run a few months after we joined up with Benny. She was a crazy fighter…super resourceful and brave. She threw herself head first into anything, no fear. Benny’s a good guy…without him and the others, I would have fallen apart…I still feel like falling apart sometimes.”

Castiel nodded, his medical mask crinkling a bit as he did so, “I think we all do…”

Kevin coughed a couple more times and Castiel lifted the tray again. “Ok, I think that’s enough talking for now, let’s focus on eating.” 

After another few days, Kevin was finally well enough to get out of bed. He was still having frequent coughing fits, and his nose was still runny, but he was slowly getting his strength back. Soon he’d actually be ready to go back to the ski lodge. 

Now that he was most likely no longer contagious, he was even allowed to leave Castiel’s room, but he had to wear a medical mask, just to be safe. 

Claire and Jack were excited to meet someone their own age, they had already been trying to talk to him through the door whenever Castiel wasn’t looking, but they nearly exploded when they finally got to actually hang out with him. They spent hours playing games and talking while Sam and Cas attempted to sanitize Castiel’s room. When they finally finished, they came out to the living room and found the three laying on the floor playing 5 card poker.

“I raise your San Francisco Zoo tiger with…Beyoncé’s private jet, beat that losers,” Claire teased with a grin. 

Kevin looked her over carefully, then leaned back with confidence, “You are totally bluffing.”

“Try me, Rainman, there is no way you kept count after that 15-minute nerdgasm about Dungeons and Dragons.”

“First off, it was Magic the Gathering, and you know it. Second, I totally kept count. Your distraction techniques won’t work on me.” 

“I fold,” Jack announced happily as he laid his cards down. 

“Please tell me you aren’t dividing up the remainder of the world,” Castiel asked half seriously as he took a seat on the couch. 

“No…just the good parts,” Claire shrugged. 

“Kevin knows how to count cards!” Jack explained and despite the medical mask, it was clear that Kevin was going a bit pink. 

“Interesting skill for a high school kid to have,” Sam added as he took a seat as well.

“Yeah, well, I watched a documentary about some guys from MIT doing it and figured I’d teach myself. It’s not that hard or anything.” Sam and Castiel shared a look. 

“I guess it’s not like there are any casinos to get thrown out of anymore…” Sam suggested.

“Possibly…you never know. Either way, perhaps we can change to something a little more family friendly?”

“Orrr less family friendly like truth or dare!” Claire suggested and Castiel shook his head, laughing. “Fine, fine. But I am definitely not playing trivial pursuit with this guy,” Claire stated, pointing at Kevin. 

“How about Pictionary?” Jack suggested, and Claire’s eyes lit up, “Yes, definitely! I bet you can only draw stick figures!” 

Kevin shrugged coyly, and Claire glared at him, “You are totally bluffing…I swear if you are good at art too, I’m throwing you out.”

He wasn’t, and she didn’t. She did, however, laugh at his stick-dragon for a good 10 minutes until she was crying. Somehow, Jack still guessed it was meant to be a Charizard. 

On the 7th day after the trade, Castiel was working on making yet another pot of soup for Kevin and Jack while Sam was on a run gathering supplies in town and Claire was out hunting and checking her traps. He listened as the boys bonded over a game of checkers in the living room; both of them wrapped in blankets and sipping gingerbread tea by the crackling fire. 

From the kitchen window, Castiel watched the gently falling snow; the blanket of sparkling white was almost completely undisturbed, except for Claire and Sam’s tracks from that morning. The warmth from the fireplace, the smell of the broth, and the sound of the boy’s laughter in the living room made things feel almost perfectly peaceful. There were naturally people missing from the scene and uncertain trading agreements still hanging in the air, but overall, things were good. Better than they had been in a long time even. 

Of course, that didn’t stop the more depressing thoughts from slipping in like a cold breeze sliding under the front door. It was something about the smell of the broth, he figured, but he couldn’t stop thinking about his home back in Chicago, and more specifically, about his siblings. They had eaten a lot of packet noodle meals growing up after all, it was only natural that such a familiar smell would bring back memories. It also didn’t help that ever since Sam and Dean had shown up, he’d been thinking about his family a lot more. Hearing that Anna, Hannah, and Balthazar hadn’t stayed in the community after everything that happened only confirmed what he had been fearing for a long time: that they had tried to come to him…and never made it. 

Anna and Michael had always taken care of everyone, but Castiel had always been especially close to Anna. Michael loved them all and devoted his life to taking care of them, he was even their legal guardian, but he did have a tendency to be stubborn, over protective, and just a bit judgmental. So, when they were really young, and it was just the three of them, Anna and Castiel naturally became a team. The bond only grew as they got older. They shared everything. She was the first one he came out to, and he was always the one she went to with the many things she couldn’t tell Michael; things like love drama, tattoo ideas, or her secret ambition to quit her stable, though low-paying, hotel-cleaning job, to try and become an artist. 

When Castiel had left to join the military, he had been full of idealism and ambition. He was going to protect his country and his family, become a hero, and do something important. When he came back a shell-shocked mess, Anna and Balthazar were the ones mainly trying to help him get back on his feet. 

He still remembered the day he snapped, they had both been trying so hard to help him, but at the time he didn’t want help. Anna made scrambled eggs for breakfast that day, and she was still in the middle of dishing out plates when Castiel made his way downstairs to join the rest of his siblings. He was exhausted and probably looked like a train wreck, but even half asleep he could feel Michael’s judgement wash over him the minute he was in view. Balthazar pushed a chair out for him and Castiel silently sat down, hoping Michael would give up and leave him alone. 

“Long night?” Michael finally asked, showing that no, of course he was not giving up because Michael never just let anything or anyone be. 

“Yeah, we uh, went clubbing,” Balthazar explained, trying to shrug it off as casually as he could. 

“What? Without me?” Anna teased as she put a cup of coffee on the table for Castiel. 

“Next time, dear sister, next time,” Balthazar sang and Anna fluffed his hair.

“Not the hair, please, do you have any idea how long it takes to set it just right?” Balthazar complained as he batted her away. 

“So, how was it? Meet any hot guys?” Anna asked as she took her seat on Castiel’s other side.

“No…Cassie just played wingman for me…right, Cassie? He helped me find the most beautiful Italian woman, what was her name again?” Balthazar urged, but Castiel just shrugged.

“Maybe instead of clubbing, you should be looking for a job? How long do you plan to just sit around the house? It’s no wonder your riddled with anxiety, you need to get out there again and give yourself something productive to focus on,” Michael suggested, and Anna glared at him. 

“If you want something to do, you can always help me with the baby. I kinda have my hands full,” Hannah added. 

“Hannah, you decided to have the baby, you knew what that meant, don’t try to pawn your responsibilities off on Castiel,” Anna scolded. 

“I’m taking responsibility, I just thought he could help out if he was going to be here anyway. He always used to help around the house…” She said the last part quietly, but Castiel still heard her. It was always about what he used to do and who he used to be. It all felt so impossible now. 

Samandriel just stared at him, his baby brother didn’t even seem to know how to talk to him anymore, he always just looked so full of pity.

“Yes, well, apparently Castiel is too busy clubbing to be here for his family, or even to pull himself together,” Michael shrugged and took a bite of his eggs. Here was the guilt trip. 

“That’s not fair, I was there too, in fact I’m out clubbing most nights,” Balthazar interjected, always being so kind and making excuses to protect him. 

“Yes, but you still go to work and school. Where you find the energy for all three is beyond me, but you make it work,” Michael reminded him. His family never fought this often before…his problems were actually tearing them apart. 

Castiel couldn’t take it, “I had another panic attack…that’s what you want to hear, right?” Castiel glared at Michael as he spoke, “We went to the club and the bass was too loud…and it set me off. Balthazar had to bring me home, it wasn’t a big deal,” Balthazar looked at him with guilt and put his hand over Castiel’s, but Cas snatched it away. He didn’t want to be a burden or a disappointment, but that’s all he was anymore. 

The room got quiet for a moment before Anna finally spoke up, “Maybe…it’s time to go to the hospital? They have medication that could help you…right, Michael?” Then there was that. He didn’t want that kind of help, he didn’t want to admit that he had a serious problem. He was embarrassed and angry. He felt broken and worthless. After everything he had been through in his life, he couldn’t believe the things that would set him off, but he couldn’t stop it. Even when he knew that he wasn’t in real danger, the anxiety would choke him until he felt like he was back in the middle of it all. But if he started taking medication, that would be admitting that the problem was real and long term. It would be admitting that he couldn’t handle it on his own. 

“Yes, of course there is medication for just about everything, but it costs money that we don’t have. Besides, I’m telling you, a job is all he needs. Once he’s back out there with a new purpose, he’ll be fine. In fact, I’ve actually lined up a few interviews for you this week Castiel. All you have to do is put in a little effort to show up, and I’m sure you can get any of them, you are more than qualified.” 

Anna ignored him and leaned in close, “Cas, just come with me to the clinic later today, ok? I’ll take the day off…it’s time to just…deal with this.”

Castiel clenched the fork in his hand until his knuckles were white. Being at home, seeing his disappointed siblings, constantly being reminded of who he had been, and feeling the pressure to get better, it all hurt too much. 

“I’m done,” Castiel threw the fork on his plate, got up, and ran upstairs to his shared room where he threw himself onto his bed. He pulled his hair trying to keep from screaming as he let a quiet sob out. He curled onto his side, taking deep breaths, counting as he went to try and keep them steady. He could feel his throat tighten, the train was coming, and he couldn’t move off the tracks. In his mind all he could see were their eyes, all the pity and judgement. 

In front of him, his old hunting knife was on the dresser next to him, reflecting the morning light, and for a moment it seemed to shine welcomingly. He was so frustrated and so angry. He couldn’t keep living this way. He didn’t want to keep being a burden on everyone, but he also didn’t know how to make it all just stop. The knife would make it stop. Before he knew what he was doing he reached out to it.

Then, just as his hand gripped the blade, it finally hit him just how serious the issue was. In his whole shitty life, he had never thought about suicide…just the fact that he had honestly considered it scared him. He dropped the blade to the ground and watched it take a chunk out of the wooden floor. 

He realized he needed to do something, he needed to accept that this was a real problem and he needed help. That’s when he started looking for cabins in the mountains, far, far from home. That’s also when he finally let Anna take him to the hospital to start getting medicated. 

Things started to get a lot better after he moved. The isolation and the quiet of the woods helped reduce his anxiety. He even signed up for online counseling, though he couldn’t tell his family because “Novaks didn’t do counseling.” Of course, even after he moved, his siblings didn’t exactly leave him alone. Anna had visited several times. Even Balthazar and Hannah had each come a handful of times as well, though Balthazar could hardly handle all the “unnerving silence”. The visits only seemed to increase when Jack and Claire moved in. His siblings were excited to have more nieces and nephews and they were so happy to see the slow improvements Cas was making away from the city. After the first year, Cas was even off the daily medication and down to only taking some when he felt an abundance of stress. 

The first Christmas in the cabin had been one of the best ones he ever had. All of his siblings came to visit, even Michael. The place was packed, but it felt cozy. They all helped cut down a tree in the woods and went all out decorating it. To save on money, they did a Secret Santa exchange and kept the presents under 15$, although Michael cheated and bought Fitbits for Jack and Claire. The whole family spent the holiday sledding through the woods, drunkenly singing Christmas songs, and happily falling into food comas after eating Michael’s cooking- which was always top-quality comfort food. 

Even though Castiel had a great time, that Christmas was also Claire and Jack’s first Christmas without their parents. He was extra grateful to have his family around to keep the kids busy and distracted. Hannah’s baby Charles…unfortunately named after their father, was also getting much better at walking and running that year. He was typically found racing all over the place, trying to stick anything and everything into his mouth. Jack in particular had a fondness for chasing the baby around the house and in the snow. Castiel wondered what had happened to Charles…he hoped that somehow the boy was alive somewhere…maybe with Michael and Samandriel somewhere outside of Chicago. 

Sometimes, when he thought about them, he felt guilty for leaving. Like maybe if he had been there, he could have protected them. Or at least, they wouldn’t have been inspired to try and cross the country to find him…he had failed his family. He couldn’t fail Jack and Claire. 

Jack and Claire had been so happy when they could finally talk to Kevin. Having a new friend their age had turned out even better than Castiel had imagined, and part of him regretted not trying to find others sooner. According to Kevin, there were two more teenagers at Benny’s. Oskar, an ex-barista, and Jo, who apparently had a knife collection that Kevin thought Claire would enjoy. Some of their trading partners also seemed to have teenagers including a boy named Gavin, who enjoyed fishing almost as much as Jack, and several “really pretty girls” that Kevin apparently hadn’t had the courage to talk to yet, but he was sure one of them was named Alex. Needless to say, both Jack and Claire were excited to go meet everyone and visit the lodge. He hoped things were going well on Dean’s end. 

Sam had been so angry about Dean being left there, and Castiel supposed he should be worried too, after all, Dean could be in danger, but it just didn’t feel that way. Despite some unsavory decisions due to desperation, Benny seemed trustworthy. That trust was only further solidified by talking to Kevin about their group. If anything, the only thing they really had to worry about was Dean losing his temper and wailing on someone over something stupid. 

Even thinking that made him wince with guilt. He remembered the tears in Dean’s eyes and how upset he was after being categorized the same as his father. Even if he did spend his life working his father’s jobs…following in his footsteps in the family business…that didn’t mean that everything that had been Dean was gone. 

Once the broth was boiling, Castiel poured in some pho noodles that had dehydrated pieces of chicken and green onion in them. He stirred it around watching the noodles grow soft, then he ladled some into two bowls, prepared each boy’s medicine, and set the table. “Boys, lunch is ready.” 

Kevin and Jack both needed some help to walk, so they had started leaning on each other and hobbling their way around that way. Castiel found it endearing, though obviously inconvenient. Jack saw the bowls and looked at Castiel, “You aren’t going to eat with us?”

“No, I’ll wait for Claire and Sam. You two eat so you can take your medicine.”

“Alright,” Jack relented. 

“Thanks Castiel! It smells awesome!” Kevin practically sang as he helped Jack sit and then sat down himself. 

They devoured the soup and then quickly went back to checkers. Castiel tried to keep himself busy by doing chores around the house and then eventually reading while he waited for Claire and Sam to get home. He knew Claire would be out until she got too cold to hunt anymore, something about walking around the forest seemed to calm her. 

Nothing seemed to be able to hold his attention and after forcing himself to read about 3 chapters, he put the book down and went into his room. He didn’t have a lot growing up, so the move from Chicago was fairly easy, but there were a few knickknacks he had brought with him. He pulled a small shoe box from his closet and wiped off a thick layer of dust before opening it. Inside, there were some old polaroid pictures of him with his family, and some awards from his time in both ROTC and the army. There was also a small knitted lion that his aunt Amara had made for him before she died…Castiel never understood how a little vodka and crack was enough to take her when everything Chuck had done seemed to roll of his back. If nothing else, Castiel was a bit jealous of his father’s resilience. 

Then, there at the bottom, he found it. A mixtape titled: “Dean’s Top 13 ZEPP TRAXX.” Shortly after their…affair…had started, Dean insisted that Castiel become acquainted with the music that he liked. Liked was too weak of a word; this music kept Dean sane, it gave him an escape from the hell he had to deal with on a daily basis, and it helped him feel not so alone. Music was personal and important to Dean, so when he wanted to share it with Castiel, it had meant everything. 

Castiel was never sure if Dean was trying to tell him a message through the songs or if they were really just his favorite songs, but he listened to that tape hundreds of times trying to decipher it. There were a lot of great songs on it including several of the major classics, but there, hidden among them, on the B-side, was “Thank You.” Back when he first got the tape, he wanted more than anything to believe that those lyrics, were a message just for him. That they were everything Dean was too afraid to say out loud. 

Castiel wasn’t sure why he thought this was a good idea, but he dug out a small Walkman from his bedside cabinet, put headphones on, and just listened to the tape. Every song on it reminded him of who Dean had been and Castiel couldn’t help but wonder if these songs were still a reflection of him or if he was just blinding himself with what he wanted to see. Despite the confusion, despite whatever they had having been so long ago, when it got to Thank You, and he heard the last of the lyrics, he felt himself crying. 

_“If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you…  
Mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me.” _

Soon, Castiel heard the roar of his truck. He wiped his face off with the palms of his hands and headed outside to help Sam unload the new supplies, “Good run? You were gone a while.” 

“Oh yeah. I went to Grangeville today, just wait till you see what I found for the kids.” Castiel looked at him curiously, but Sam just gave a mysterious smile and handed him some boxes, then grabbed some for himself. 

“Welcome back!” Jack greeted from his spot on the floor as they walked in. 

“Thanks,” Sam responded with a soft chuckle. Growing up, his family wasn’t exactly the welcome you home and ask about your day type; usually, he got home and went straight to his room to try and read or study while he could, before things got too loud or crazy. He didn’t know if it had been different with the Novaks or not, but Sam thought it was really nice that Cas and his kids did that. It made it easy to feel like you belonged with them, even Kevin already seemed right at home. 

Sam left his boxes on the table and went back out to the truck for more. As he did, Castiel began to sort through everything they had already brought in; that’s when he saw medical supplies and bullet proof vests. Things like these were typically taken during the first wave of looting…where could he have gotten them? 

“Wow, no way!” Kevin shouted from the living room.

“For us?!” Jack chimed in. 

Castiel’s brows raised and he went back to the living room to see Kevin holding a cello and Jack holding a violin, their cases hastily discarded on the floor. Castiel’s confused face was clearly enough to convey his feelings because Sam explained without prompting, “Last night after dinner when you passed out on the couch for a bit, Kevin was telling us about how he used to play, and I thought I’d take a look around. Turns out music stores haven’t really been looted that much. Go figure, right? Oh, I got Claire a guitar too, and I picked up all the books of music I could find for them.”

“This…really means a lot to me. Thank you. I used to hate playing the cello…but now it reminds me of my mom…I promise, even if it’s a pain in the ass to haul around, I’ll take care of it,” Kevin said quietly, holding the cello with reference. 

“My father played the violin, right? I barely remember him ever playing it for us, but I think he did once when I was really little. I mostly just remember the sound...he played it during a storm and it covered up the sound of the thunder. Do you think he would be happy if I learned to play?” Jack asked from his spot on the floor, looking up at Castiel. 

“I think he would be very proud, yes.” Castiel confirmed with a sad nod. 

Jack turned to Kevin, “I haven’t really ever played any instruments, but I’ll practice really hard, then maybe we can play together!” 

“Sure! Cello is obviously pretty different than the violin, but there are probably a few things I can help you with-” Kevin started off confident and then seemed to realize his mistake, “-if you want, that is. You know, just to get you started,” Kevin spoke hesitantly, clearly trying not to be overbearing in the new friendship. 

“That’d be great!” Jack beamed as usual and instantly Kevin relaxed and started telling him all about rosin. 

Castiel smiled watching them, then remembered what he had found, “Sam, could you help me with the boxes?” 

“Sure, of course,” Sam smiled watching the boys for another brief moment before he followed Castiel into the kitchen and noticed the first box was open on the table. 

“Sam, where did you get all of this?”

“From the military base in Grangeville. There were a ton of walkers around, so I figured it hadn’t been looted. I had to saw some bars off the outside of a window, and I couldn’t get to all the rooms, but I got some pretty good stuff.”

“The base? By yourself? That place was completely overrun! You could have been killed! What were you thinking?”

Sam leaned his head back a bit, “ _I was thinking_ that we need more medicine in case any more of us get sick. I was _also thinking_ that if we need to go rescue Dean we are going to need to be geared up.”

“Sam, yes we need these things, but not at the risk of your life. If you wanted to do something like this, you should have at least told me first, I could have helped you.”

“It was fine Castiel, you don’t have to worry about me, I may not be Dean…but I can handle myself too.” 

“That is beyond the point,” Castiel sighed, looking away. 

They went silent for a moment and Sam patted another box, “I also raided the little import store they had. There was a lot of food that got left because people probably didn’t know what to do with it…figured maybe we could try it out. Maybe deer meat will taste better with a little marinating.” 

With that Castiel finally gave a small hint of a smile, their dislike of deer meat had been something they’d been bonding over recently, “That would be nice…though this doesn’t change the fact that your brother is going to kill me when he gets home.”

“Hey, what Dean doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

“You say that as if he won’t somehow instinctively know that you put yourself in danger. That man has some sort of sort of psychic ability when it comes to people being in trouble.” 

“Oh yeah? That sounds like there is a story behind it,” Sam asked curiously and Castiel looked away, considering whether or not he should tell him anything. It didn’t really have to do with their relationship exactly, so maybe it would be alright. 

“Well, one time, when you were off at summer camp, your brother came to live with me for a few weeks.” Sam’s brows lifted in surprise and Castiel quickly realized how that must have sounded, “Uh, we needed some help with the kids. All of us that were able to, were working over the summer and that left the younger kids alone, so I asked Dean to help out and watch them.” Sam seemed even more suspicious, so Castiel continued, “In exchange, he could raid our kitchen whenever he wanted and my older siblings would buy him beer.” That seemed to make sense to Sam. 

“Anyway, one night, I was working at the 711 and a man came in with a ski mask and a gun. Normally, we had plenty of shop lifting, but being a small store in the south side, no one had ever bothered trying to hold the place up before. It was still light out too, but there he was, no hesitation, no bullshit, just straight to business of getting everyone on the floor.”

“Shit…”

Castiel nodded in agreement, “There were only a couple of kids in the store at the time, but they were clearly scared…while the man looked around, they kept inching towards the door. I tried to distract the gunman by knocking over the take a penny leave a penny. It worked for a split second, and then they went for it.” Castiel could still remember them scurrying out the door, practically crawling over each other on their way out. Almost immediately after the small bell above the door chimed, announcing their dramatic exit, the man shot several bullets in their direction, shattering the glass door. 

“They made it out, but it made the gunman more nervous. He turned the gun back on me and cocked it…he held his finger on the trigger while I emptied out the cash register.” 

“I don’t know how long he had been there, but the second the man lowered the gun to get the money, Dean stepped in through glass with his own pistol held up and I could see my little brother Samandriel on the sidewalk outside. Dean looked like a hero out of a movie or a comic book or something.”

Sam smiled at the thought as Castiel let himself fall into the memory. 

Castiel could still remember what Dean said, more or less, “Put the fucking gun and money down, asshole. You think you can just fucking do what you want around here? You know who the fuck I am?” As he spoke, Castiel pulled his own pistol up from behind the register and aimed it at the man, but he didn’t notice. His eyes were fixed on Dean.

“….Dean Winchester. You’re John Winchester’s boy,” the man seemed to stumble back a bit. 

“Damn fucking right. Now get the hell out of here, before I take your fucking kneecaps out, just to make sure you learn your goddamn lesson about messing with people you shouldn’t be messing with.” 

“Yes, of course! Please, don’t shoot me, I’m sorry!” the man dropped the money and the gun and sprinted for the door as clumsily as the kids before him had done. 

“You wanna rob people go to the fucking North side you moron!” Dean shouted through the busted door, then he went out, swooped Samandriel up into his arms and walked back in, the broken glass crunching under his steps. “You ok?”

Castiel nodded, setting his gun down beneath the counter and moved in close to pull Samandriel into his own arms, hugging him tightly, partially to check that he was ok, but more so to calm his own racing heartbeat. 

“Ice cream,” Samandriel whimpered and Castiel looked at Dean.

“We were here for some ice cream. I dunno man, I had this weird feeling something was wrong, and I figured if nothing else, at least we could enjoy the fucking air conditioning in here for a while.” Castiel was so overcome with love and relief that he moved forward and pecked Dean on the cheek. 

Immediately Dean wiped his cheek with his hand and he looked around with wide eyes, making sure they were alone, “Dude, what the fuck? Not in public, alright?” he scolded. 

Castiel’s heart sank, but he just held Samandriel tighter, “Right…hey, let’s go get you some ice cream, okay little guy?” Samandriel nodded and leaned his head against Castiel’s. 

“And me too, right? Come on, pretty sure I earned it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“Anyway, Dean and Samandriel stayed till the end of my shift, Dean even helped me clean up the glass.”

When Castiel pulled himself from the memory and back into reality, he finally noticed Sam staring at him with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open, “You kissed him? That’s it…. that’s the piece I’ve been missing. You weren’t friends…you were together.”


	11. Patches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benny's group finally goes back to the mill.

Dean leaned back in Benny’s old truck, making himself comfortable for the short ride up north towards the little town of Cottonwood, “So, what do I need to know about this guy? He gonna be an easy sell?” 

Benny chuckled, “Hell no, but he owes me one, so that should help. As for the rest, really all you need to know is that Fergus Macleod was a rich-ass, big-city businessman that came to hide out in his vacation home when shit went crazy. The way he sees it, he’s stuck out here in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by incapable, idiot hicks.”

“So, what I’m getting is that he’s a stuck-up douchebag?” 

“That’s one way to put it,” they both snickered. 

“Well, fuck him, being underestimated just makes our job easier.” 

“Usually I’d agree with you brother, but as much as I don’t like him, the man is a hell of a negotiator; he knows how to play his hand with the best of ‘em. Hell, he made himself the defacto leader of the group in Cottonwood even though he’s an outsider and lives off on his own private property a few miles out. I don’t even wanna know how he pulled that off to be honest.” 

“Shit. Is it just him out there?”

“Nah, he brought his mom and son with him. His mom was a gold-digger, back when gold was worth digging for, she’s easily as manipulative as her son. Fergus’ boy’s alright, not really the best shot out there, but he works hard and makes up for it.”

Dean gave a quiet thoughtful hum, “You sure we need ‘em?”

“You saw the mill, we need back up to clear it, and this guy is our best bet to get it. He _should_ want the road blockaded just as bad as we do, more even, after all, he’s in position to get hit first if the walkers do head down this way. He just won’t make it easy. Nothing is ever easy with him.”

After the short drive to Cottonwood, then out down a long dirt road through the Macleod private lands, they finally arrived at the oddly creepy vacation home. 

Dean and Benny parked the truck and walked in step along a salted cobble stone path towards a two-story cottage that looked like something out of an old Germanic fairytale, particularly the kind where the witch inside ate unwanted visitors. 

The cottage was all dark bricks, and tall arched windows covered with abstract metal decorations. Dark leafless branches and vines crawled up the sides of the building; in the summertime, Dean assumed they were probably layered with flowers and leaves, but in the winter, they ended up looking like the dried-up, dusty, old veins of a walker. Above them, there were three chimneys sticking out from the roof in random spots, each spewing tunnels of smoke into the cold morning air. 

Something about the place made Dean feel uneasy. When he heard “vacation home” he had been expecting a condo with a swimming pool and a tennis court. Needless to say, he’d never seen a place like this outside of old horror flicks. 

“You sure about this?” Dean asked quietly. 

Benny grinned, “Gettin’ cold feet?”

“Pfft, never. Let’s just get this over with. Ash needs all the help he can get building his _masterpiece_ , after all. Don’t wanna keep him waiting,” Dean teased, trying to shake off his nerves. 

Benny shook his head, “Oh lord, don’t remind me. I swear, I thought my hands were gonna fall off last night from all that hammering. Hell, I don’t even know what part I was making.”

Dean laughed, “Hey, you’re the one who gave us two extra days to get ready, you shoulda figured Ash would make the most of it.”

“A few adjustments to the barricade I could understand, maybe even a few extra traps, but what he’s planning? Brother, no one saw that coming. That boy went so far overboard he’s caught in the damn seaweed.”

“Hey, give the man his legacy. After all, ‘generation after generation will be in awe of this perfect symbol of post-civilization defensive technology,’” Dean repeated, trying hard to keep a straight face. 

Benny burst out laughing, “How drunk do you think he was when he said that?”

“Not as drunk as he should have been.”

When they finally got to the front door, Dean knocked a few times, and eventually the door opened. They were greeted by a middle-aged man with a thick, but well-trimmed beard, and the kind of hand tailored Italian suit that Dean had only ever seen on TV or in magazines. As finely made as it was, the suit had clearly taken a beating since the end of dry cleaning: it was wrinkled, dirty, and even had a few tears. The fact that the man was still wearing it said a lot.

“Benny, what do I owe the pleasure?” His words were lightly laced with irritation, but he primarily still held a business professional level of charm that Dean instantly recognized. 

“Here to cash in that favor you owe me. Can we come in?” 

“Of course. Let’s talk in my office.” Who the hell still had an office?

Dean looked around as they were led inside. Despite the creepy ass gothic design on the outside of the cottage, the interior was all modern and sleek. In fact, he had to give the guy credit, unlike some people he knew back in Chicago that were just playing at being rich, everything here was clearly made for quality. It was obvious in the details and the materials that there were no mass-produced items here. Even the art looked like it consisted of only original works, not like the shit copies he used to import and peddle off to idiots with too much money. This man had clearly been worth a hell of a lot to be able to build a place like this, even in a cheap ass state like Idaho. 

The multiple fireplaces kept every inch of the house warm and comfortable, but something felt off. The whole place was oddly quiet and overly clean, not cluttered and lived in like Cas’ place. Dean would never have even thought there was anyone else home if he hadn’t seen a young man’s face poke out curiously from a room at the end of the hall. 

Fergus led them into his office which was everything an office should be. It even smelled like a cliché with a mixture of mahogany, whiskey, and old leather-bound books. With no real work to do, Dean wondered what the man did in his office. There was a half empty bottle of whiskey on his desk, so he obviously spent time in the room. Maybe he just read? Hell, maybe he put his fancy Italian pants on his head and danced around. Why the fuck not, right? It was the end of the world. 

But as much as Dean liked the image, he figured it was probably just a comfort thing, just like the suit was. In here, he could hold onto who he had been before or something. A lot of people did shit like that. Even that girl Charlie that he and Sam had met a few months back had held onto her laptop for sentimental reasons. It would probably never turn on again and it was a hell of a heavy-ass paperweight to carry around…but she just couldn’t abandon the damn thing. 

Unlike most people, Dean had personally found the apocalypse liberating in a lot of ways; there were no more obligations, no more expectations, no more felonies or parole officers, overall Dean’s life had only been on the up and up. But for people like this who had always been so busy playing the system and actually liked it, this must have been hell. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met?” Fergus began casually as he motioned for them to sit while he moved to the other side of his desk. 

“No, I’m new around here. Dean Winchester,” Dean held out a hand. Fergus looked at it for a moment, then gave a polite smile as he took it. Unsurprisingly, Fergus had a firm grip. 

“So, Benny, what exactly do you want?” 

“Well, maybe you’ve already heard, but we got the herd from Lewiston primarily headed up north now. We took out the bridge and blocked up the road out of the orchards too, but the road by the paper mill is still open and the place is crawling with walkers. We need some help clearing it while some of my crew block it up.”

“Ah, I see. That sounds like a rather dangerous task. I may owe you, but even still I wouldn’t be able to convince my men to join in such a dangerous venture without something else on the table…what do you have to offer to placate their very understandable concerns?” 

Benny was right, the man was apparently going to make things difficult. 

“Look, I ain’t asking for your whole crew. The one who owes the debt is you. We only need a few extra hands, you, your boy, maybe one or two of your guys, whoever you can pull, that would be enough.”

Fergus tapped his fingers briskly over his desk a few times, considering it, then stopped and squared his eyes firmly back on Benny’s, “No.” 

Dean’s brow crinkled, and his head jerked back on reflex, “Are you kidding? Maybe I don’t know how they did it back in your bullshit corporate world, but to the rest of the world, if you owe him, you don’t get to say no.”

Fergus lifted a brow and cracked a small smile, “Feisty, isn’t he? Look, uh, what was it again?”

“Dean.”

“Dean, let me break this down for you, both of you. I do owe a debt, and I will continue to owe that debt until I can repay it, but you are asking me to risk my life, the life of my son, and the lives of some of my men for something completely pointless.” His voice got gradually louder until he was shouting at them. Dean hadn’t expected that, most of these business types kept their cool during negotiations and then crumbled under the first sign of aggression, especially now that they didn’t have their body guards or the police to come save them. This was new, but he could deal with yelling. 

“What exactly is it about trying to cut off a massive group of walkers that you find pointless?” Dean asked, raising the volume, but not shouting yet. 

“It’s like talking to a wall with you people,” Fergus muttered to himself before continuing, speaking slowly as if it would help them understand better, “You can block as many streets as you want, but walkers will still get here, they always do. Without some sort of giant wall around the entire area, you are fighting a losing battle. Let them come, as they will, and we can take care of them just like we always do, but risking lives to try to give everyone a false sense of security, is absurd.” 

“Absurd? A guy thinking he gets to pick and choose when to pay a debt, now that is absurd! Hell, a guy thinking it doesn’t matter if a bunch of walkers come banging on his front door because he thinks he can just throw his cannon fodder men at them and be done with it, is absurd.” Dean shouted, standing up at this point.

“Dean…” Benny started, but Dean continued.

“No, I don’t buy any of this. You are just a fucking coward. I know assholes like you, you just manipulate everyone around you to get what you want. You just use everyone else to keep you safe while you sit in your goddamn tower eating little fucking tarts or some shit while you pretend the world is going to somehow magically get put back together just like it was. Well, I’ve got some fucking news for you, the world isn’t like that anymore, society is broken, and there’s no going back, so you pull your weight, or you get off the goddamn lifeboat, buddy.” 

There was a quiet knock and all of them turned to see a teenage boy with long, shaggy brown hair and gentle eyes walk in, “Father…I’m sorry to interrupt, but the debt is mine to pay…whatever they need, I’ll do it.”

“Gavin, the men are talking, why don’t you-”

“I am a man, and Benny saved my life. This is my business too.”

Fergus looked at his son for a moment in exasperation, silently commanding him to go, but Gavin never flinched or faltered, he stood determined and defiant even under his father’s scrutiny. Dean had to respect the kid for that, not everyone could stare their father down like that. 

Finally, Fergus broke eye contact with his son, throwing one hand up and waving it in defeat, “Fine, you get me, my son, and four of my men. But if anyone dies, if anyone is hurt, the next debt is yours.” 

“Of course,” Benny offered with an understanding nod. 

Gavin smiled as Benny shook on it with Fergus. 

Fergus turned to his son, “There, happy?”

“Yes, thank you father.” 

Despite his best attempt to look angry, Fergus’ eyes shined with a spark of pride. Maybe…there was more to the guy than Dean had given him credit for, if nothing else, he clearly loved his kid. 

The next morning, both groups headed back to the paper mill. Dean was glad they were finally going to be getting the road taken care of, it had felt like a loose end that was going to bite them in the ass if they left it alone. 

Despite what Fergus had said about the whole thing being pointless, Dean figured this really should be the last hole in the dam that needed to be plugged up for a while. Even if a few walkers made their way south through the hills, they were more likely to get spread out or get off track without having roads to follow, and any advantage they could take was worth it in his book- he was raised to be proactive, afterall.

Dean glanced over at Benny and noticed how tense he looked, his knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel. “It’s gonna be fine, you know? You want me to drive so you can get a nap or something?” Between working on strategies, organizing supply runs, helping Ash build pieces of his barricade, and driving around to recruit backup, the guy had barely slept the last two days. Dean may have been right there with him for most of it, but at least he was able to grab a few hours here and there. Benny, on the other hand, had to be running on fumes at this point.

“Nah, brother, thanks though. I’ll feel a hell of a lot better the minute I see the place…it’s all the waiting you know? The place could be overrun by now…or it might be deserted…can’t know until we get back there…”

“Yeah…I know what you mean…” Over the last two days, in the cracks in between the chaos, Dean had been thinking about where he stood with Cas and what he should do when Cas came back for him. It was impossible to tell how things would be without being there with him. All he knew was that he had really liked playing house before the trade was made: he liked the kids, he liked the cabin, he liked having that feeling of family. But now, knowing how Cas saw him, he knew it couldn’t keep going on like that. 

After everything that had happened between them, he was an idiot to think that it could work out, that he deserved to be a part of Cas’ life or his family. Even them meeting up again like this had just been some cruel joke - not that he was surprised, life never seemed to go easy on him. At this point, he was already thinking about asking Benny if he and his brother could just stay at the ski lodge. Maybe they could build their own place or something in the land around the lodge and just join the group. It was as safe as anything they could find or build in Canada, and besides, he liked Benny and the others. There was no past to live up to, no confusing feelings, just a spot for people trying to fucking make it in the world. 

Dean shook off the thoughts, he could ask Benny later, for now they both needed their head in the game, “So, if it’s overrun, we take ‘em nice and quiet, little by little with cover from the trucks or the hills. If it’s deserted, we still clear it for sure, then we all pitch in and help Ash build the great wall of the Pacific Northwest. Right?”

Benny smiled, his grip on the wheel relaxing a bit, “Yeah. Simple as that.” 

Dean felt himself relax as well; he opened up one of the thermostats Andrea had made for them with some peppermint schnapps spiked hot chocolate and handed it to Benny. Benny took a swig and handed it back, giving a quiet hum of appreciation. Dean took a swig as well, capped it, and put it back in the cardboard cup holder. 

The snow had started again, which was probably a good thing in terms of slowing the walkers down. He watched as it melted into the Snake river. They were nearly there now. 

Even from afar, it was clear that the walkers were still infesting the area around the mill. More had gotten stuck in the reservoir that seemed to have frozen over now, and others were just stumbling aimlessly around the fields. A couple had even gotten stuck on the few spike traps Ash had set up last time. Looking at them flailing on the spikes made Dean wonder how many had already headed south. It couldn’t have been a lot, but at least a few must have gotten loose by now. They’d have to deal with that later though. 

Benny stopped the truck, giving them plenty of space before reaching where the initial traps had been set up, and hopped out with Dean close behind him. The others followed in suit; all in all, 3 dirty old trucks and one ridiculously expensive looking, black SUV were lined up together in the road. It looked like the start of a bad joke. 

Fergus, came up to Benny, “Well, cowboy, what now?” 

Benny gave a low whistle, “We play it smart and have a few head up into the hills overlooking the place. They can lessen the numbers and get us a lay of the land. Then we go in groups, nice and slow, and clear the place inside and out. After that, we get to work building the blockade. We got a lot of the foundational pieces ready to go, just gotta lay ‘em down and fit ‘em together. Ash can take over at that point.” Ash gave a two-finger salute, his glorious mullet blowing in the wind like he was some 80’s rock god. Damn Dean loved Ash, even if his overly elaborate wall was ridiculous. 

Jody walked up, “I got my sniper, chief. I can head up and use the walkie talkies to guide you guys through.”

“I got mine too, lady, don’t think I’m letting you go off on your own now,” Donna chimed in with a bright smile, Jody smiled back and nodded.

“Alright, use silencers, we need every advantage we can get,” Benny reminded them.

“Silencers? For sniper rifles?” Fergus asked with a lifted brow, “How did you manage that?”

“Homemade, they still make noise, but not the kind that’ll echo through the hills at least,” Jody answered as she and Donna got their guns ready. 

“I see…” Fergus replied, not even bothering to cover up his judgmental tone. 

Benny clapped him on the shoulder, then looked around his group, “Alright, here we go, it’s time to get this done. Ash hand out the walkie talkies then get your team on unloading the trucks. Donna and Jody, you two head up and start firing whenever you’re ready. Meg, Dean, you two check your ammo and be ready to roll. Fergus, I got a map in my truck, let’s go look over the routes again, we gotta make this as smooth and as fast as possible.” Everyone looked determined and focused as they headed off to their individual tasks. Benny’s group had lost a lot of people over the last few weeks, they weren’t willing to lose any more. 

Dean leaned against Benny’s truck and watched the mill as he checked his ammo; the walkers were covered in snow and it almost made it look like the ground was moving in waves. This time around, he had a pistol with a silencer and his hunting knife on him, it wasn’t as comforting as having his assault rifle, but this is the way they needed to play it and Dean knew that. 

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted as a heavy shot sliced through the sky and took a walker down in the field in front of him. It was followed quickly by another, the walker’s body falling suddenly like a puppet cut from its strings. Dean grinned, turning to scan the snowy, empty hills; he soon spotted where Jody and Donna had set up their rifles, both women were quick to work, never wasting a shot as walker after walker went down. 

Eventually, Jody’s voice could be heard over the walkie-talkies, “You’re clear as far as the reservoir, but do you mind getting the ones on the traps? Figured we could save some bullets.”

“They are a little hard to miss,” Donna added cheerfully. 

“Good thinking, thanks,” Benny mumbled back; he gave a signal and Fergus moved out with his group while Benny led Dean and Meg towards the traps. Meanwhile, Garth, Ellen, Jo, and some men from Fergus’ Cottonwood group stayed behind to help Ash start setting up the barricade. 

Dean watched the walkers on the traps carefully as he moved out of their flailing reach to get by them, stabbing a couple whenever he could get a clear swing at their skulls. Right as he went for his third one, Meg moved in and stabbed it from behind. She grinned up at him like a kid waiting for a fight after stealing another kid’s cookie, “Aww, did you want that one? Sorry.” He knew her game. The competition was on.

Dean smirked back, “All yours, you’re gonna need a head start to even stand a chance of keeping up with me, after all.” 

“Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that, Dean-o.” He rolled his eyes at the nickname and followed her to catch up with Benny. 

When they reached the reservoir, Benny tapped his shoe on the ice. 

“It’d be a good idea to take these out too, that ice is going to melt eventually, and we can’t be sure the mud will hold ‘em forever.”

“Let me guess, you want me to do it don’t you,” Meg complained and Benny grinned at her.

“You’re the lightest. Besides the ice seems pretty thick and the water ain’t that deep to begin with. You’ll be fine. Plus, darling, don’t forget, if you need it, which I know you probably won’t, you got me and Dean covering you,” Benny said with a sweet smile. 

“Oh, my heroes, I feel so comforted and loved that my little heart may just explode into sunshine and lollipops,” Meg taunted sarcastically, illustrating her heart exploding with her hands before rolling her eyes in surrender, “I better get a month off cleaning duty for this.” 

Meg zipped up her leather jacket a bit higher, adjusted her purple beanie over her long brown hair, and pulled out a long, silver blade from her combat boot. She carefully placed one boot onto the ice and pressed down. The ice crackled and groaned in response, but it didn’t break. She looked over at Benny and he nodded, encouraging her to move the other foot onto the ice. She let go of a breath she seemed to have been holding, and went in. 

“Okay, I got this, nice and slow. Categorize that under things I would never normally say,” Meg grinned to herself as she made her way over the ice towards the first stuck zombie. They were all in waist deep, but as she approached, they reached for her and chomped hungrily at the air. She moved in slowly behind the first walker, noting its hindered movement, and stabbed it through the back of the head. Instantly, the torso hung forward, unable to hit the ice, “One down…only another dozen or so to go. Guess I am getting that head start, not that I need it, you jealous Dean-o?” 

“I’ll catch up, just watch your ass out there.”

“You got this,” Benny said confidently, and Meg shrugged, moving carefully to the next one. The ice seemed to pop and whine with every step she took, but it still held together. Both Dean and Benny were so focused on her, when the walkie talkie burst to life they jumped. 

“Hey boss, you got a couple headed your way, Fergus needs the cover more, can you handle ‘em?”

Benny looked to see a couple of stray walkers coming towards the reservoir, “We’re on it Jody, keep up the good work.”

Benny headed over to deal with them and Dean followed. They stalked up the path, the fresh snow crunching under their feet. With long strides and clean strikes, the boys sent both walkers to the ground. That’s when Benny noticed a few more not too far away. He looked over at Dean, then back at Meg. She was slowly making her way across the ice towards another stuck walker. “Let’s take those out too, quick and clean, then we get back to Meg.”

Dean nodded and followed, there were 5 this time. He went to one side to flank them and started grabbing snow and rocks to form into snowballs. Meanwhile, Benny’s whistling drew the group’s attention giving Dean time to work. Once he got a few snowballs clumped together with enough rocks, he chucked them at the walkers, hitting a couple in the head to pull their attention off Benny and towards himself. He figured leaving Benny with 3 was a clear sign of respect and trust. This may not have been the south side, but some rules had to be universal. 

Dean picked up more snow and rocks and hit one of them right in the face, its head knocked back and snow got caught and piled around its eyes, but it kept moving forward. “Wow, don’t let anyone tell you, you can’t take a fucking hit,” he grabbed another handful of snow to slow the same walker down so he could get one before the other, but just as he was just about to throw it, he heard a scream and the sound of breaking ice. 

Dean turned away from the impending walkers and saw that Meg’s leg had fallen through the ice and was stuck knee deep while she was grappling with a walker, trying desperately to get an opening where she could go back on the offensive. 

From all the movement of the struggle, the ice continued to crack and split around them, and abruptly the hole around her knee splintered and pulled her down deeper. As she fell, she was thrown off balance sending her crashing backwards onto the ice with the newly freed walker on top of her. The sudden impact of their bodies against the surface of the reservoir sent out rippling tears that seemed to spread out all across the ice as she was sucked into the intensely cold, muddy water below: trapped under the walker that was still snapping at her. 

Dean’s eyes went wide, “Meg!” he whispered desperately, his mind blanking as he tried to think of what to do. The walkers he had pulled were nearly on him and Benny still had his hands full, there was nothing they could do and if she and the walker were both under the water, Jody and Donna couldn’t save her either. He watched, hoping to see her pop to the surface, but ever second felt like hours and suddenly he heard the rumbling growl of the walkers behind him, just before they reached out and grabbed at his coat, moving in to bit his neck and shoulders. 

Dean shoved them away, ducked down low to the ground on reflex, and quickly rolled away from them through the snow, “Shit, we don’t have time for this.” Relieved that he had already put the silencer on, Dean pulled out his pistol and shot the first in the head, then the second. He looked back over to the reservoir and saw that Meg had fought her way back up onto the ice. It looked like she couldn’t stand, and she seemed to be moving very slowly, almost like she was injured, but at least she was out of the water and the walker appeared to be down. 

Dean looked back to Benny, he had one walker dead at his feet already and was in the process of taking out the second with his knife. Dean ran over, plugging his knife into the remaining walker’s temple. “Meg’s in trouble,” Dean huffed out and without a further thought, both ran back to the reservoir. Benny was shouting over the walkie talkie to get Jodie on it as well. 

The reservoir had fragmented enough to set several of the walkers free, but the cold, muddy water and patches of ice slowed them down. Meg was near the middle, freezing and barely holding onto her blade as she looked around trying to keep an eye on all possible enemies. She had pulled herself onto a solid section of ice, but there was no trail leading back to the shore and just as Dean had suspected, she was hurt. There was a large tear in her pants, and beyond that all Dean could see was blood. It almost looked like a scratch…

Benny turned to Dean, “We gotta get her out of there, fuck it, we go with the guns, the silencers should be enough to keep it from echoing through the valley…hopefully. Once she’s out, you take her back to the truck and get her warmed up, dried up…and patched up.”

“What if she’s….” Dean trailed off, and Benny just shook his head, it was enough to understand, Dean knew what would have to be done, but saying it would make it to real, “Whatever you need,” Dean swallowed hard and started lining up his first shot. 

“Meg, start making your way over here, we got you covered, darlin’,” Benny called out and Meg looked at him with a helplessness Dean had never seen on her. She nodded and winced with pain as she crawled to the edge of the ice. She hesitated, her eyes closing tight as she tugged her feet forward and slipped them into the water first. She cried out, the bitter cold rushing over her like thousands of needles. She shook her head, taking small gasps for air as she pushed herself into it. The thick mud below instantly swallowed her boots and she had to sink into the water further, and focus all her strength, just to pull one up to take a step. On the second step, when she lifted the bloody leg up she gave out a quiet cry, stopping and hunching over in pain. 

Several walkers were closing in on her. Dean knew he had to be quick, he took a slow breath and lined the first one up, and with incredible speed knocked down three, one after the other. 

“Reloading,” Dean warned, so Benny could pick up his slack. A heavy shot rang true and hard, taking down a walker that was getting uncomfortably close to Meg and Meg looked back towards the hills. Jody with us, hopefully that meant Fergus had things under control on his end now. 

With another round of rapid fire, Dean, Benny, and Jody dropped all of the walkers and Meg had finally struggled her way out of the mud and ice. Her teeth were chattering, her movements were stiff, her skin was blue and splattered with muddy water and frost, even her dark hair was starting to freeze. 

Dean and Benny took a look at her injury. Her leg had clearly been torn open by the ice when she fell. The cut was deep, and the bleeding wasn’t stopping. Now that the adrenaline wasn’t pounding in her veins and exhaustion was setting in, she was finding it hard to even stand. Benny ran his hands up and down her arms a few times to warm her up, then lowered his head to meet her eyes as he held her up. It took her a moment to focus, but she met them right back. 

“Hey darlin’.”

“Hey ya, chief,” her voice was shaky and quiet. 

“Dean is gonna get you back to the truck. I got a med kit, some spare clothes, and a blanket in the back. You sit in there with the heat running, get out of those wet clothes first, then try and patch yourself up, ok? Keep pressure on the wound, and look, I know you wanna help, but don’t overdo it, stay safe and wait for us ok? No sacrificing yourself today, not on my watch.” Meg smiled at that and nodded, unable to speak further. Benny smiled at her though his eyes were filled with worry, “And yes, you can have cleaning duty off for a month.” Benny gave a silent signal and Dean moved in to take over.

Dean put his arm around Meg and guided her back towards the trucks. When he got near where the others were setting up the blockade, Jo ran up, “Oh shit, that looks bad, look, I got her, you go help Benny.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice, he needed to get back to Benny, he couldn’t leave him out there alone, “Thanks, Jo, see you soon Meg,” Dean ran back out towards the fields where Benny was looking around, assessing the situation. Fergus’s group had already cleared most of the field with the snipers helping out. All that was left were the greenhouses, the mill itself, and the maze of logs. 

“Fergus, where are you?” Benny asked through the walkie-talkie. 

“We are making our way around the mill, as planned, think you can handle cleaning up the inside? It seems like a more appropriate setting for a man with your…talents.”

“Funny. We’re on it.” 

Dean and Benny made their way through the frozen field and towards the old paper mill. Its green color seemed dampened by the grey skies, leaving it desaturated like something from an old grainy film. The large smoke stacks above were quiet and still now, but the snow continued to fall like a substitute haze of white. 

The metal door was heavy and swung slow with a long screeching cry. Inside, the machines were massive and took up most of the room, but they were lined with narrow walkways up above and down below, all made of metal netting. The place was practically a rusty mechanical maze. 

Back in Chicago, the Winchesters had dealings with several factories in the area. Dean had stopped by now and then to check on deals or get information. They had always been so loud and chaotic. The machines always chugging along seemed to drown out almost everything else: people practically had to scream to hear each other from two feet away. Then again, the people that worked there were practically on autopilot half the time, moving from one button to another, picking up this or that and moving it to the next place…they were basically just more parts of the machines. 

Still, for how boring their jobs were, they were some of the most colorful people he had ever met, and that was saying something. They were just like everyone else in the south side, honest as fuck and with absolutely no shits to give. Most of them had felonies behind them and couldn’t exactly work anywhere else, so what else did they have to hide. As far as Dean was concerned, they were friendly and knew how to fucking party and that’s all that mattered. Plus, it didn’t hurt that their stories were almost as crazy as his own. 

Hanging out with them, he’d heard all kinds of stories about skinny dipping over their midnight lunch break, that time the dude who literally claimed to be a ninja wizard set a fire in the parking lot, and about how when a crackhead got hit straight in the chest with a massive pallet of machinery only laughed it off and tried to keep working while bleeding through their shirt. He’d heard about the horrors of working with the guy who sometimes shit his pants and kept going, and he got to laugh with them about some of the bitch ass punks that quit after one shift because their tiny pink haired manager told them off. 

Despite how shitty some of it seemed, Dean had been a bit jealous of how well they all seemed to get along. People from 16 to 60 all piled together, smoking on the dock, like some patchwork family. Every time he went to prison, he would run in to someone from that dock and they always had his back. Good people.

This factory was different. This factory was empty and dead. The silence was overbearing and heavy, tripped only by their footsteps that seemed to echo through the entire place. It was a drastic juxtaposition that made Dean’s skin crawl. “Gordon must have pulled them all out of here…”

“Could be. Better check further in though. Bathrooms, offices…”

“Yeah, let’s do it.” They made their way through the machines and to a hallway in the back. There were several small offices, a break room, a shower room, and some bathrooms. One by one, they hit each room to clear it. They found a few stray walkers here and there, but nothing too difficult. They even found a vending machine in the break room, still fully stocked. 

Benny and Dean smashed it open and piled everything into a drawer they took from one of the office desks. On the way our, Dean noticed that Benny kept looking around, but the place was clearly emptied out. “You ok?” Dean asked and Benny nodded solemnly. 

“Guess I just expected to find Gordon and Cole in here somewhere.” 

“Maybe Fergus got them outside.”

“Doesn’t feel right, they were ours.” Dean gave a tiny smile at the inclusion, and clapped Benny on the shoulder before heading back out. 

Everyone regrouped back at the entrance. Jo had driven Meg back to the ski lodge to get what they needed to stitch her up, but everyone else worked to get the barricade finished. Luckily, most of the work was already done and just needed putting together and adjusted to fit the area. 

When it got dark, they turned the trucks on and used the headlights to keep working. Dean had no idea what time it was by the time they were finished, but he guessed it was somewhere near dawn. He didn’t even feel the cold by then, but he could tell he was covered in sweat under all his layers. 

In the end, it was beautiful. A makeshift wall surrounded with spikes and traps that sealed off the road starting at the hills and leading to the river. Lewiston’s 30,000 people may not all end up going north, but at least this would deter the stragglers from using this old dirt road. 

The ride home felt good; every muscle in Dean’s body was sore and he was ready to get changed, but the group all working together, having a victory like this, being able to just be a part of it, it all felt damn good. Maybe he had finally found his own crazy group to truly just, be a part of, his own patchwork family. 

Of course, that victory was short lived. When they got home they found Oskar with a black eye and a broken arm tucked away in a sling, Meg was asleep on the couch, her wounds having been tended, and Jo, covered in bruises and ready to pounce with a knife in each hand. It wasn’t until she saw her mom that she dropped the knives and hugged her tight, crying. 

Benny looked at Oskar, “What happened?”

Oskar bit his lip and lowered his head, “Gordon…he took Andrea.”


	12. Wherefore Art Thou, Shadow?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shadow....

Gordon had left instructions with Oskar: Tonight, Benny and the others, _everyone_ was supposed to come to where he was holding Andrea, unarmed of course. Apparently, he had an important _lesson_ for everyone. 

Benny was panicked, exhausted, and desperate. He seemed to be falling apart one step at a time as he paced around the room trying to figure out a plan. Dean longed to help him or at least take some of the weight off his shoulders, but this was Benny’s wife, and these were his people; Dean knew there was nothing he could do or say at this point that would help, so he waited quietly, like everyone else, ready to follow Benny into hell if need be. 

After several long minutes of pure, rigid tension, Benny stopped pacing and looked around at his group, scattered throughout the room. “I’ve thought about it, and I realized…we have no choice. We go, unarmed, like he said.” Several mouths gaped open and Benny adjusted his hat, “I know you’re worried, but we don’t have time to call for backup or come up with some other plan. We only have maybe an hour and a half before sunrise at best, and if we don’t go tonight like he said…who knows what he might do to her, to all of us. He’s clearly not going to let this go. We have to play his game: it’s the only chance we have to get her out of there alive, and end whatever this mess is. Besides, maybe…Gordon can still be reasoned with. He was one of us after all.” 

The fear in the air was overwhelming and suffocating. Dean noticed that as the group considered his words, most of them were too afraid to move or even look at each other. But then there was Jody, the one exception. She nodded firmly without hesitation, her eyes shining with determination, “I’m with you, Chief, weapons or not, we can handle Gordon. The important thing right now is getting there before he hurts Andrea. The sooner we get her out of there and away from him, the better.” With that, she started unstrapping her side arm. Ellen looked concerned, but she started to unstrap hers as well, and that set off a domino effect until everyone had removed their weapons, including Dean. 

Even without orders, everyone slowly got moving, there was still a lingering nervous tension in the air, like that of someone walking up the gallows, but with each step they seemed more resolute. Dean wasn’t sure if it was because they were gaining confidence or just because they accepted their situation, but he did his best to help where he could. He filled up the trucks with the gas reserves while Jo woke Meg up and helped her into Ellen’s truck. Jody, Garth, and Ellen took the weapons out of their vehicles and handed them to Ash, Oskar, and Donna who sealed them inside the lodge with the rest of the group’s communal stash. Once they were ready, in almost complete silence, they piled into their vehicles and waited for their leader. Benny looked at Dean as he approached his truck, “Look, Dean, you aren’t a part of this…you shouldn’t have to-”

Dean shook his head, “Don’t start that shit. You know I’m with you, brother. No matter what that means.” Benny gave a weak, grateful smile and clapped Dean’s shoulder, gripping it for a moment as if to steady himself before finally getting into his truck. 

The snow had finally stopped, and the night had reached its darkest point, only lit by a half moon. Neither of them spoke during the drive; they were both physically and mentally exhausted, and trying hopelessly to prepare for what was to come. The only sounds were the truck’s engine as it raced down the mountain, and the light splashing of the remaining spiked cocoa that Andrea had prepared for them that morning to wake them up. 

Dean wasn’t sure what to expect, he had only spoken with Gordon a few times. They had gotten along at first, even gotten drunk together on his second night in camp. They were up late, talking about killing walkers, and their top ten kills, but it quickly became all too obvious what Gordon was like…and it was the type of person Dean was all too familiar with. He had avoided him for the most part after that, and stuck close to more trustworthy, comfortable people like Benny, Jody, and Ash. He hated to admit it, but if he was right about Gordon, he knew that this night was going to end bloody. 

Following Oskar’s instructions from Gordon’s message, they soon arrived at a modern, one-story farmhouse, just outside of Grangeville. The garage was wide open and there were several battery powered floodlight lamps on, making the whole place glow with an unnaturally pale, sterile light. 

Gordon was sitting in the middle of the room on a simple wooden chair, with a gun pointed at Andrea. She laid on the cement floor; from the trucks they couldn’t see her condition, but she wasn’t moving. Benny barely had the engine off before he was out the door and marching into the garage with his group behind him. 

As they entered, the response was immediate: everyone tensed and was filled with fear, anger, or a suddenly hopeless despair. Some were ready to strangle Gordon, others were ready to run…but Benny looked like he was about to fall to his knees. Dean kept close, just in case. 

There in front of them, Andrea laid in a puddle of her own blood. She was only in the heat-tech shirt and jeans that she typically wore in the cabin, so her wounds were easily visible. There were cuts all up and down her arms, legs, and back, one of her arms was clearly broken and popped out of the shoulder socket, and one of her eyes was gone, leaving a bloody, black void. 

Those wounds, her vacant look, Benny’s anguish, even the lamps, it all felt so familiar. It reminded Dean of the first time his father took him to an interrogation. His father was a master of interrogation… of torture. He could get information from whoever he wanted. He knew where to cut, he knew the kinds of chemicals to use, the old methods using bamboo, the new methods like water boarding…his toolbelt of tricks was overflowing. 

Dean bit his lips as he heard his father’s voice echo in his ears. “The pain is part of it, but it’s not all of it, son. You hurt them, you keep them awake, yeah, but more than that, you gotta tear away their hope and their humanity. They gotta know that this is all there is, they gotta realize that they are completely powerless and alone, that this could go on forever if you want it to. They gotta know that it will just get worse and worse the more they wait…that no amount of honor or loyalty is worth the hell you are going to put them through.” 

It took a long time before Dean could bring himself to do it, at first, he resisted, but it always ended up with the knife or the brass knuckles coming at him instead. Eventually, he learned. In time, he even mastered it. He couldn’t count the people he had hurt anymore. Sometimes it was for information, sometimes it was just to teach a lesson…

“So glad you could make it, I almost thought you weren’t going to show up,” Gordon beamed with an almost manic smile, as if they were all just friends meeting for lunch after a long time apart. “Look at all of you…shaking in your boots,” he stood, his gun constantly steadied on Andrea. 

He looked the group over one by one, then gradually his face distorted into disgust and his voice rose to a shout, “Why are you so afraid!? Every single one of you is a killer, you’ve all seen what people become, you’ve seen them rotting and falling apart as they come at you, you’ve seen them eat people, you’ve chopped your dead friends up and used them as shields,” he gestured to the corner where two walkers were chained up to a pipe, their arms and lower jaws cut off. Cole was one of them. “This kind of typical Tuesday horror show should be nothing to you! You shouldn’t even flinch at it!” 

“Gordon, enough of this, what do you want? Is this because we left you at the mill?” Benny started, his voice uneven and shaking. Gordon shook his head laughing.

“Seriously? That’s what you think this is about? That was nothing more than an inconvenience. The problem, is much more serious than that. It’s a cancer that’s infected this group and it stems from you. You are so weak, how the hell are any of the rest of them still alive?” He looked at the rest of the group, “You all follow this pathetic, soft-hearted idiot, like he was some fucking messiah. You let him make all the decisions for you and don’t even bother to use your own heads. The world isn’t what it was, stop acting like you can still play nice and follow the rules until you get your Disney bullshit happy ending! It’s survival of the fittest, the strong survive, society as it was, is done for. You all need to accept the truth of it and toughen the hell up. 

_“You need to toughen up, son! We don’t have time for this shit, you’re a Winchester, start acting like it,” John shouted as he brought the brass knuckles down against Dean’s head. He could hear ringing as he hit the ground. “Now get up and pick up the knife.”_

Gordon looked them over again with a condescending gaze, “Look at all of you, you’re actually here, unarmed in the middle of the goddamn night, even though you know I could just kill all of you. I could mow you all down right now, and what could you even do about it but cry and run and beg. And for what? For his wife. For someone who barely leaves the cabin and sure as hell doesn’t even pull her own weight.” He kicked her and Benny moved forward, but Jody grabbed his shoulder. 

_Well, I’ve got some fucking news for you, the world isn’t like that anymore, society is broken, and there’s no going back, so you pull your weight, or you get off the goddamn lifeboat, buddy._ Suddenly, the words Dean had screamed at Fergus were coming back to him, and it made him feel sick. 

“Look, you want revenge, you got it, but this is done-” Benny started, but Gordon quickly cut him off.

“This isn’t about revenge! This is about helping all of you idiots realize what the real world is like. Back at that factory, we had a job to do, if we had all just gone in and done it right, no holding back, no pussyfooting around like scared little rabbits, Cole wouldn’t be dead.”

“That’s not true,” Jody said shaking her head with eyes glazed with bitter tears. 

“The hell it’s not! This whole group’s potential is being wasted. We could be living like kings, but instead we cower in some fucking ski lodge crammed together in our sleeping bags so tight we are rolling over each other. These things, what is left of people after they turn, they are NOT a threat, we can hunt and trap them just like we can any other animal, but not if we are always hesitating, not if we are weak. Even in White Bird, we lost two people just because they were afraid to act. Then a few days later we have their murderers on our front door and what do you do, Benny? You play nice with them. You make one of them your new best friend.” 

_“No hesitation, Dean, it’s always gonna be you or them, that’s the way the world works…now shoot him. We have to send a message, no one betrays the Winchesters.”_ Dean’s fingers trembled as he remembered his first kill. The boy couldn’t have been much older than he was as the time…he never forgot that boy. 

Benny’s fists tightened at his side. 

_“You never build, Winchesters just take and destroy.”_ Castiel was right, that’s exactly what Winchesters do. As he looked at Gordon standing over Andrea, all he could see was his father standing over Castiel’s naked, broken body. Then the image blurred, and he saw himself…standing over all of the faces he had tried to erase from his memory over the years…the faces that haunted him whenever he let them. 

Gordon continued, “Look, I’m not going to just abandon this group, all of you have potential, together we could be an unstoppable force, but you have to stop being so afraid. You have to accept that death happens, that life isn’t fair, that it’s cruel, and the only way to live, the only way to succeed, is to stop holding back. We should be ready to do what needs to be done.”

“And how exactly are we supposed to learn that? By listening to you prattle on like some old preacher singing of hellfire and brimstone?” Benny mocked, finally lifting his eyes from Andrea to meet Gordon’s glare. She hadn’t moved or made a sound the entire time, which meant Gordon had been effective at pulling her apart. She was in shock.

“Isn’t it obvious? Someone has to die tonight,” Gordon announced almost theatrically, and everyone seemed to shrink back. 

_“Someone has to die tonight,” Dean announced, bouncing a machete on his palm, and the 4 men on their knees in front of him all shrank back, trying to make themselves as small as possible. His cousins laughed and mocked them as Dean continued, “No one betrays the Winchesters, you had a job to do, and you fucked up. You should have come to us and settled the debt, like men, but instead you ratted us out hoping for a deal. My father is back in prison, thanks to you four, but he’s not out of the game, and I’m certainly not out of the game…so let’s just say you boys made a very, very poor choice.”_

_“You are nothing like him. You could never be like him.”_ How ironic. Castiel was right about one thing, they didn’t know each other anymore. Even now, Dean could almost feel his father’s shadow towering over him, its darkness was imprinted so deeply into his skin that it was tattooed on his bones. Even Sam didn’t even know about all of what he’d done…how truly beyond redemption he was.

“No avoiding it, someone has to go,” Gordon said again, looking each member of the group over, as if he were shopping for a steak and wanted to find the leanest cut. 

“Fine…it’s me you want, right? You said this is all my fault for making them weak…then go ahead, let’s end this,” Benny offered, his eyes back on Andrea, hoping to see any sign of her still in there, at least one last time, but she didn’t move. Her remaining eye simply stared out into space, unfocused and unresponsive. 

“You know, Dean…this part reminds me of us a little bit,” Castiel said quietly, holding a small paperback version of Romeo and Juliet in his hands. 

Dean looked up from his own copy, “Well, I’m glad one of us can understand this crap. How the hell do they expect us to read this shit?” 

“It gets easier the more you do it. Here, read this part,” Castiel held the spot on the page and Dean gave an exaggerated sigh and leaned over, closing the space between them where they sat on Castiel’s bed. 

“Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo. Oh god, the cheesiest part of this whole damn thing reminds you of us? Seriously?”

Castiel grinned, “And what exactly, do you think that the ‘cheesiest part’ even means?”

“Uhh Romeo, Romeo, where the fuck are you, Romeo? Pretty sure everyone knows that part, Cas.” 

Castiel smiled smugly as if Dean had just walked perfectly into his trap as planned, “A common mistranslation…it actually means, Romeo, Romeo, _why_ are you Romeo?” Dean lifted a brow looking at him with suspicion. “I’m serious. Here, let me translate this bit for you and I bet you’ll see what I mean.”

“Yeah, ok Shakespeare, go for it,” Dean surrendered with a shrug. 

Cas grinned and put the book down, taking Dean’s hand in his own, “Dean…” Cas started in a low whisper, with an affectionate smile as he gazed into Dean’s eyes. Dean suddenly felt nervous and looked away, trying to cover it up with a mocking scoff, but Cas lowered his head to recapture Dean’s gaze, “Dean, why are you a Winchester? Deny your asshole father…and refuse your name. Or, if you will not, even to swear your love to me, then I’ll no longer be a Novak.” 

Dean felt goosebumps rush over his body, and he swallowed hard, “What uhh…did Romeo say? He was there, right? Listening to her talk to herself or whatever?”

“He said…call me love, and I’ll be newly baptized…I’ll no longer be Romeo.”

Dean couldn’t help but let a small smile slip, but he quickly tried to play it off as a smirk, “Is that what you want, Cas? Do you want me to…give up being a Winchester?”

Cas gave a gentle, slightly hesitant look, “Isn’t it what _you_ want? All I want, is for you to be happy…and mine.”

Dean melted and cupped Castiel’s cheeks in his hands, pulling him in for a soft, loving kiss. As they parted, he pulled just barely enough away to rest their foreheads together, he couldn’t bear to open his eyes and face Cas as he spoke, “Then, call me love…and I’ll no longer be a Winchester…”

Castiel smiled proudly and leaned forward again to press another soft kiss to Dean’s lips, whispering against them, “Love…” 

“I’m yours, Cas, fuck everything else,” Dean whispered back as he carefully guided Cas down against the mattress, kissing him passionately, but indulgently slowly, enjoying every moment, feeling, for once, completely and utterly free. 

Dean wished he had really given up his name then. But maybe late was better than never. He didn’t have to be his father. He didn’t have to be like Gordon. Even if only at the end, maybe he could finally do something good. 

Dean stepped forward in front of Benny, “No. Me. It should be me.” 

Gordon looked at Dean curiously, “What was that?”

“You want to kill someone to send some kind of sick message, kill me. I killed two of your group, that was all me. I had no problem leaving your ass behind at the mill either. Guess I got it coming, right? Plus, you said it yourself, Benny likes me, so that’s like bonus points.” 

“Dean, no, if someone has to…I should be the one,” Benny started, and Dean shook his head and lowered his voice, “Let me do this for you. Andrea is gonna need you, they all need you. Just promise me that you’ll take care of my brother Sam and Cas and his kids.”

Benny looked at Dean in the eyes for a long moment, then down to Andrea, she was still, but awake, and alive. “I swear it.” Dean smiled and pulled Benny in for a hug. Jody rubbed his back, tears falling down her cheeks. 

Gordon tutted at him, patronizing him, and then motioned to the space between him and Andrea, “On your knees then.” 

He shuffled forward and sank to his knees, keeping eye contact with Gordon the whole time. He wondered if this was what those kids felt like when he had them lined up and ready to die. Dean didn’t feel scared, he felt oddly proud. He kept his posture tall and strong, on his knees or not, he would not bow, for once in his whole goddamn life, he was going to do the right thing. He was going to build something. In this moment, he was not a Winchester, he was just himself. 

“Any last words?”

Dean looked back at Benny and the others, “Yeah, actually, uh, tell Sam I’m sorry, and tell Claire she can have the rocket launcher,” Dean smiled a bit, but it fell quickly, “tell Jack he needs to read some fucking Star Trek…and tell Cas...tell him…thank you,” Dean looked back at Gordon and nodded, “Do it.” 

“Anyone averts their eyes, and I kill Andrea too,” Gordon said with an icy calm, forcing some of the group to turn back to the scene. He put the cold barrel of the gun right against Dean’s forehead, but Dean never closed his eyes.

The gunshot rang through the garage with a lightening like burst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...is sacrificed. 
> 
>  
> 
> If you can't handle cliffhangers:   
> https://theoncomingchaos.tumblr.com/post/170596012918/his-shadow-at-the-end-of-the-world


	13. Sink or Swim

A long, jagged knife went flying across the room, soaring right in front of Gordon’s face, missing him by mere inches, and then stabbed into the back wall of the garage where it stuck out proudly like a declaration of war. 

The sudden attack forced Gordon to stumble back and fire the gun on reflex as his arms went up instinctively to shield himself from harm. 

For Dean, everything was a blur of movement. He heard the sound of the gun go off, and when his body realized he was still alive and unharmed, a surge of adrenaline flooded his veins. Without thinking, he lunged forward and tackled Gordon to the ground, knocking his gun away towards the rest of the group. 

Dean and Gordon grappled on the cold, blood-splattered, cement floor, each trying urgently to get the upper hand as they tangled and rolled together, pulling, shoving, scratching, and kicking each other for control. In the midst of the struggle, Dean suddenly felt Gordon bite his ear, tearing hard as if to rip it from his head. 

Dean grunted and bit his lip hard as he moved one of his legs from Gordon’s side and slammed his knee up into his crotch. Gordon winced and released Dean’s ear. Taking the opening, Dean headbutted him hard enough to knock his head back against the ground and while Gordon was dazed and unfocused, Dean swiftly maneuvered him around to pin him properly. 

Dean was gasping for air as he solidified his grasp on Gordon, but finally the world seemed to slow down. That’s when he noticed Benny behind him, holding up Gordon’s gun, “You got him?” 

Dean nodded, “Yeah, he’s not getting away from me now.” 

Benny looked back at Jo, “Good work, remind me never to yell at you for breaking my rules again.”

Jo smiled, her heart still racing. Her mother pulled her in close and kissed her head proudly. 

Benny walked in close now and aimed the gun at Gordon’s head as Dean held him down. Benny was shaking with what Dean could only guess was an intense mix of pain and rage as he spoke, “You are one sick fuck,” he finally spat out, “How could you? You were one of us.” 

“The group has to change…you know it does. You make all of us weak! People like you, like her, they hold everyone back from their true potential, I am trying to save all of you!” Gordon shouted, his eyes wild. 

“You’re insane.” 

Dean licked his lips, keeping his grip on Gordon tight, “Benny, wait. I know you want to kill him, trust me, I can think of a lot of things I wanna do to this piece of shit, but don’t.”

“What the hell are you on about?”

“Benny, this isn’t you, brother. I know you want to kill him for what he did, but you can’t. That’s him, that’s what he wants. You’re better than this, you all are. You don’t have to let him turn you into his brand of crazy. Once you go there, you can’t come back, not completely, trust me. It always haunts you, even when you think you were in the right.”

“So, exactly what do you suggest we do then? What _could_ we do that would make up for what he’s done?”

Dean didn’t hesitate, “You have a cage already, why not use it? Lock him up, do justice the right way…you are out here to build something, right? To build a community? To build a life and a home? How the hell can you do that if you let his crazy shit get into your head? He wants society to break apart, he wants people killing each other…be better than that. Do the right thing,” that I could never do, Dean finished in his head.

Benny roughly bit his bottom lip, his muscles trembled, and his eyes still seemed livid as he looked down the barrel at Gordon’s smirking face. His finger was already hovering over the trigger, it wouldn’t take much. Just one little squeeze.

“Benny? She needs you, leave it, at least until you can think straight. Trust me…” Dean repeated, his eyes flashing over his shoulder to Benny. 

Jody came up beside Benny and offered a hand. Benny’s eyes flickered between Jody’s hand and Gordon’s face a couple of times, but finally, with a bit more force than intended, Benny handed over the gun and went to Andrea, gently pulling her limp body into his arms. Jody came up next to Dean and pulled out some handcuffs. “Let’s take care of this.”

Dean looked at her confused.

“Old habit, besides, they don’t count as weapons, right?” Dean turned Gordon over with a hard slam and Jody cuffed him. 

“Maybe we should knock him out, too? Just in case? There’s a bat over here,” Jo offered, and Meg snickered.

Dean drove Benny’s truck on the way back to the lodge. Benny was in the passenger seat with Andrea curled on his lap, wrapped in a blanket. Benny was singing quietly in her ear, stroking her hair. She still hadn’t spoken or moved much, but she was alive and for Benny that’s all that mattered. 

Dean remembered seeing Cas’s bloody body on the floor when his father finally said it was enough. Seeing Cas hurt like that had felt like a part of himself had been cut out and stepped on. He could only imagine what Benny was feeling. 

Another several days passed and after a long rest, the group was finally trying to get back to their normal routine, more or less. Andrea was eating and drinking again, but she was still quiet. She had a patch over her missing eye now, a reminder to everyone about what had happened. 

They had emptied out the cage down in the hatch and put Gordon down there. No long-term decisions had been made about him yet, but at least the issue was handled for the time being. 

Benny stayed in the lodge with Andrea, never straying far from her side while the others went out on runs and to check for any stray walkers that had gotten through before the barrier was up. Dean went out with them during the day since the group was short on numbers with Oskar and Meg injured as well. He was glad he could help, though he missed going out with Benny. 

On a fairly easy and uneventful run in downtown Grangeville, he managed to convince Jo to let him raid an old book store. It was a small shop filled from floor to ceiling with books: there were even stray piles of books stacked here and there on the floor. The place was quiet and smelled like old, well-used pages. 

Despite what a lot of people probably thought, Dean liked to read. He may have been a bit picky about what he liked, and he never liked to do it when teachers tried to force it on him, but overall, he liked reading, and the smell and atmosphere of a bookstore always felt relaxing. 

As he searched the dark aisles, he began to realize just how many books had already been taken from the shelves. Without TV and the internet, he supposed people were returning to reading for entertainment. Still, even with the surprising amount of books missing from the shelves, he still found a few good things. He scored some old Star Trek novels for Jack, hoping the boy might get into them since he clearly liked Sci-Fi, a beginner’s guide on aikido for Claire so she would never be caught off guard like Andrea had been, and a massive book on edible wild plants for Sam, just in case they ever got stuck in the wilderness without food again. Now, he just needed something for Cas. 

He did remember one particular book that could be good. In the fall, after their summer together, Cas took Philosophy as an elective. He had a ton of pretty intense reading for the class, so Dean did what any caring individual would do: he frequently went to bother him in an attempt to keep him from falling into some sort of existential crisis. On one of those days, Cas had been reading a book to him, insisting that Dean would actually like this one, but he was making very slow progress with Dean sucking him off at the same time. 

“Time…is like a river made up of the events which happen, and a violent stream, ugh, fuck, Dean…” Castiel panted for air as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to regain his focus as his body began to pulse with need. 

Dean popped off of him and looked up innocently from his lap, “I’m in the book? Wow.” Castiel glared at him and Dean gave a playful kiss to his tip before swallowing him again and moaning desperately as he felt Cas’s length push at the back of his throat. Castiel used the book to block his view and continued stubbornly, “For as soon as a thing has been seen, it is carried away, and another comes in its place, and this will be carried away too.” 

“Not gonna lie, sounds pretty depressing, Cas,” Dean teased before licking a long, slow strip down Cas’s length following a pulsing vein, then open mouth kissing his way back up. 

Castiel shrugged, “Not really, it’s just…truth.” Dean paused and sat up curiously to listen as Castiel continued, “The universe and everything that happens in it, all the shit we deal with, all the good stuff too, it’s all impermanent. It all starts and changes…or ends…then new things start, and the cycle just keeps on going. The point he goes on to make, is that no matter what horrible stuff is happening around us, no matter how angry or irritated we get, we should try to stay true to who we are…to the best part of ourselves. That we shouldn’t let the events in our lives twist us into something less. The only things we should let form us are the things that make us better people.” 

Dean gave a solemn smile at that and moved up to kiss Castiel chastely, “So, according to this dude, what happens if people do let that shit change them?” 

“Well, he says you can come back from mistakes, as long as you come back through reason and not just passions or because you want a better reputation or advantage…if you are true about it and have realized your mistake in an honest way, then you will come back better than you were and be worthy of respect.” 

As Dean looked through the bookstore, he wondered if Castiel still believed those words. After everything Dean had done in his life…could he really just get to move on like that? Did he even deserve the chance to? In his mind, he could easily come up with a small army of ghosts that would disagree…

Dean wandered to the philosophy section and poked around. Some of the names sounded familiar, but he knew the author wasn’t someone super famous, not like Plato or anything. He also remembered it being a very thin book. He looked over each of the thinner books, one by one, pulling out a mini flashlight when he had to go into a darker corner to continue his search. Then, he spotted it. Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations. He picked it up and flipped through a few pages and smiled subconsciously, this was definitely it. He put it in the bag with the others, then headed outside where Jo was waiting by the door. 

“Took you long enough.”

“Hey, you could have come in too.”

“I’m good, gotta enjoy the little bit of sun we have today before it starts inevitably snowing again.”

“Good point, pale as you are, you need all the sun you can get.”

“Coming from you, freckles, that is hilarious.” 

“Whatever, get in the truck.” 

That night, Dean read through the first meditation. From what he got, it was mostly the guy showing gratitude to the people who helped him become a better person. Dean tried to think back through his life for who taught him what, but it was harder than he thought. Sam taught him patience for sure. His father taught him to be brave. Then there was his mom…

He was in the middle of thinking about it when he noticed Benny help Andrea upstairs. She leaned into him as he supported her. Dean watched them go for a moment, wishing he could do something for them. After watching them disappear into the stairwell, he went into the kitchen and grabbed himself some hot chocolate, if he couldn’t have comfort pie, at least he needed something sweet. Then, he went back to his spot by the fire and opened the book to meditation 2. As he read through it, the room seemed to empty out and go quiet until the only sound remaining was the crackling of the fire. After another hour or two, he had lost himself so completely in the text that he didn’t even notice when Benny came back in, until he spoke. 

“Wanna crack open some whiskey with me?”

Dean looked up, it was only then that he realized just how tired Benny looked, “Yeah, sure, let me get it, you sit down. You look like you’re about to pass out or something.”

“Just about.”

Dean went to the bar and poured Benny two fingers of whiskey, then looked at his own mug, still filled with fresh hot chocolate, and decided against it. No point in being wasteful. 

He handed the glass to Benny and sat back down across from him. Benny swirled the whiskey, watching the light from the fire catch in the glass and reflect out, sparkling along the amber liquid, then he took the whiskey down all at once and gave a melancholy smile as he set the glass on a side table. “It’s hard to get to sleep these days.”

Dean nodded, “I bet.” They fell into a companionable silence for a moment as Benny watched the flames and Dean watched Benny. 

“Me and Andrea have been together about 17 years now.”

“Wow, no shit?”

“Yeah, I just…keep thinking about how it’s all my fault, you know? He hurt her because he was angry at me…angry at me running things the way I do…and I couldn’t protect her. Hell, brother, I could barely do anything, seeing her like that…I just froze up…and now…she’s still hurtin’ and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Dean thought about it for a moment and considered all of the horrible shit that used to keep him up all night, that still did sometimes, “I don’t think you can fix it. But shit like that, in time, it gets easier to put it out of your mind for the most part.”

“Well, now I feel better,” Benny teased, leaning back in the recliner. 

“Fuck, sorry, man. Maybe just, focus on the good whenever you can, might help. Like, uh, tell me about when you guys met, how did you know she was the one?”

Benny side-eyed Dean, but gave in when he judged Dean’s curiosity as genuine, “Back when I was a smuggler, I uh, had a run in with her yacht.”

“Wait, what?” Dean laughed.

“Yeah, it was all a mistake of course. She was actually an heiress, rich as all hell, just floating around the world without a care in the world, and we were looking for a pretty similar yacht that was bringing in some pharmaceuticals from Canada. Anyway, when I saw her for the first time, I swear man, the air went fucking pink. Like, I just knew that I’d do anything for her. That she was it for me. You know?”

Dean smiled a bit embarrassed, “Honestly? Not really. I was only ever serious about one person…and I kinda hated him at first.”

Benny grinned, “Cas?”

Dean blushed and looked at the fire, “Uh…fuck…yeah…you caught me. We were a thing when we were in high school.”

“So, when did it change? From hate, I mean?”

Dean leaned back and put his feet up on the coffee table, “I was at this rave, high off my ass, and then I saw him and…I was on E so none of the other shit mattered, everything was just good. So, I walked up to him and hugged him. I teased him about how it was good that a tight ass like him was out partying once in a while. Then…when I let him go, it was like I saw his eyes for the first time or something. They were so fucking blue…even with the lasers going off everywhere, they just…blew my mind. I made him dance with me…got him the same pill I took…a White Motorola. Then, when we were both wrecked, I poured my heart out about my shitty life like some fucking kid getting high for the first time…and he just, I dunno, made me feel like I was fucking worth something…”

Benny smiled, “Andrea did that for me too. She gave up everything to be with me…and I gave up everything to be with her…that’s why we moved out here: for a fresh start. No smuggling, no crew to interfere, no expectations, just us out here, trying to be a family. Those years where it was just me and her, those were the best years of my life…”

Dean felt a pang of jealousy, “Is it really that easy?”

“It can be, if you let it. What happened with you and Cas?”

Dean shook his head, “My dad, the south side, me being an idiot? The list goes on really.”

“But you want him back?”

Dean licked his lips unconsciously and nodded, “Yeah…I don’t know if it would work out, it would probably just blow up in my face like everything else does, but I…” Dean hesitated and glanced at Benny. There was no judgement, no rush, just friendly support, and Dean felt himself relax, “I want him. I want to try what you guys did, I want to start over with him and just…be a family, a real family, not like the shit we grew up with. I wanna help him build something amazing, and remind him of how goddamn awesome he is…and I wanna wake up next to him every morning and just…see him smile. I even wanna help him raise his kids…teach Claire how to fight and watch Jack fish us up the whole goddamn river while we argue over whether Star Wars or Star Trek is better…” Dean was smiling by the end, his eyes glistening. 

Benny watched him for a moment before he finally spoke, “Dean, no matter what happens, you got a place here brother, always. A family, waiting for whenever you need it. But, if you love that boy that much, you gotta at least try to be with him. No dancing around, no excuses, no self-pity bullshit. You gotta go for what you want in this life…if this whole mess taught me anything…it was to take every moment for everything its got.”

Dean looked at Benny helplessly, “Don’t you think I want to? Benny, I have no fucking clue what I’m doing…seriously, and Cas is way too fucking good for me. It might be the end of the world, but he can still do way better.”

“First off, I don’t care about the shit you’ve done or the person you were, I know you, and you damn well deserve to be happy, brother, never fucking doubt that.” Dean stared at him with his mouth hanging slightly open, one hopelessly grateful tear slipping down his cheek. “And second, nobody knows what the hell their doing, not really. We’re all just winging it.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” Dean went quiet, thinking it over and Benny slowly pushed himself up from the recliner, “Come on, let’s hit the sack. It’s late.”

Dean smiled and tried to casually wipe the tear from his cheek, “Yeah, alright. Thanks, Benny.”

Three days later, everyone was sitting down for breakfast when Dean heard a familiar, ridiculously loud engine pull up to the lodge. His eyes went wide as he looked over at Benny, “That’s Cas.” With that simple announcement, the mood of the room changed and everyone at the table was watching the door anxiously, waiting to see what had happened to Kevin. 

After a few moments, Castiel, Sam, and Kevin walked in together and Dean couldn’t stop himself from grinning. He ran over to his brother and pulled him in for a tight hug. 

“Shit, Sammy.”

Sam snickered, “I know, I missed you too.” 

“Kevin! It’s so good to see you, kiddo, bring it in here,” Jody said as she pulled him in for the first hug of many as people gathered around him to welcome him home. 

As Dean let go of Sam, he turned and looked at Cas, and froze: he had no idea what to do. He wanted to hug him, but he couldn’t. Suddenly, everything with their kiss and their fight, all of it came back and hit him hard. Castiel didn’t trust him…didn’t want him. All those daydreams of building a family with him were just that, daydreams. 

Castiel seemed just as uncertain of what to do, but he managed a polite smile, “It’s good to see you, Dean.”

“Uh, yeah, you too, Cas.” 

Sam looked between them as they avoided eye contact with each other.

Benny walked up and clapped Dean on the shoulder, waking him from his daze, and breaking the awkward tension, “Good to see you all, you’re all just in time for breakfast, come on over. We got a lot to talk about, might as well get comfortable.” Dean flashed him a thankful look as they headed back to the table. Everyone scooted over so Castiel, Sam, and Kevin could scoot in some extra chairs.

“Thank you for your hospitality, I want to apologize for how long we took, we wanted to make sure Kevin was at 100% before we brought him back,” Castiel explained as Ellen poured some stew into his bowl, then moved on to Sam’s.

“Well, he looks good, and your boy here did a great job helping out. Damn hero, if you ask me,” Benny gave Dean a playful punch on the arm and Dean lowered his head shyly. 

“So, does that mean…” Castiel started carefully.

“It means, if you want it, you and your family can be a part of our family, and you can come by whenever you want. We share, we take care of each other, watch each other’s backs: the whole works.”

Castiel looked at Benny a bit overwhelmed, then looked at Dean curiously. Dean gave a playfully cocky smile and shrug in return. Castiel turned back to Benny, “That…sounds perfect. Thank you. My kids are looking forward to meeting everyone.”

“Good to hear it. And you must be Sam, right? The kid brother?”

“Not really a kid, but yeah, I guess, and you must be Benny?”

“Yup, good to meet you.” 

They caught up over breakfast, and Benny told all kinds of heroic tales of Dean helping out with the mill, going on runs, and offering himself up to save them- which ultimately earned him an accusatory look from Sam and a concerned look from Castiel. 

After they were done eating, the lodge quickly emptied out as most people headed off in groups to go on runs, check the barricades, or man their posts. Kevin offered to help the clean up crew when he realized that Meg, Oskar, and Andrea were more or less unable to really help out that much. 

While everyone was setting out for the day, Benny took the opportunity to approach Sam, “So, Sam, you’re the only one who hasn’t been here before, how about I show you around the grounds while Castiel helps Dean get his stuff to the truck?” Dean looked at Benny wide eyed, it was obvious what Benny was doing and Dean was not ready for it.

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, that sounds nice. Thanks. We’ll see you guys in a bit, I guess?” Sam said with a shrug, caught slightly off guard. 

“Of course…” Castiel said quietly with a nod. 

Dean was trying his best to psychically scream at Benny not to leave, but Benny simply adjusted his cap and winked at Dean before leading Sam outside. 

Once they were alone, the two glanced at each other and quickly looked away as if unsure what to do with themselves. It took a few extremely awkward moments before Dean couldn’t bear it any more. 

“So, uh, I got you something,” Dean said quietly, catching Castiel’s attention. 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, uhm, hold on,” Dean ran upstairs to the loft, skipping stairs on his way up and down, then stopping in front of Castiel, holding out the book, only a tiny bit out of breath “Here. I got something for everyone else too, but might as well give you yours first.” Castiel looked at it for a moment and then a smile spread over his face.

“How did you even remember this book?”

“Hey, I can listen while I…you know.” They both went red as Castiel looked at the book, turning it over to read the back, his smile never fading. “I read it, too, finally. Kinda wished I read it sooner…maybe I wouldn’t have been such a fuck up…” Dean teased, half joking with his eyes glued to the book. 

“We’ve both made mistakes…everyone does, and no amount of wise advice will ever fix that,” he looked up at Dean, “but I’m glad you liked it…always thought you would. Thank you…it’ll be nice to read it again after so long.”

“Yeah, no problem.” 

They went awkwardly quiet again for a moment; there were so many things to sort out and so many things to say, but neither seemed to know how to start. Dean supposed he had to start simple and build up to the big stuff. As nervous and filled with self-doubt as he was, he knew he needed to talk to Cas, whether he felt up to it or not. He slowly let his eyes lift up to look at Castiel, “Cas, do you still want us to go? Benny said we could stay here, but-”

“No! Absolutely not,” Cas shouted his response louder and more quickly than he had clearly meant to and the realization of it made him go pink. Dean looked at him surprised, and Castiel looked away, lowering his voice, “Apparently, if I leave you alone for more than a day you run off and try to get yourself killed.” 

Dean grinned, “You woulda done the same.”

“Not the point. You and Sam can stay with us…until you go to Canada, I suppose.” 

“What if we don’t go to Canada?”

Castiel looked at Dean questioningly, “Did you…make a decision about that?” 

Dean smiled for a moment, but it quickly faded. He could stop here, hell, that would probably be the smart choice, but he knew that Benny was right. If he really wanted Cas, if he really wanted to be a family with him, he had to fight for it, and if he didn’t do it now he probably never would, and he’d regret it. He lost Cas once already because he was too much of a coward to be with him, he couldn’t let that happen again. 

“Maybe…I guess it depends.” Cas lifted a brow curiously and Dean swallowed hard, “Cas, after everything that happened here…I just…I dunno, I remembered how fucking dangerous the world is, I guess. Like, maybe White Bird is all picked clean, but you have no idea how close we are to a shit ton of walkers.”

“And exactly how many is a shit ton?”

“Fuck off, look, the point is, even if there were no walkers and no south side, even if we were fucking white collar business dudes in the suburbs, the truth is, we could still drop dead at any time.” Castiel narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out where Dean was going with this and Dean sighed and started over, “Fuck, I suck at this. Let me start over. I mean, things have been shitty for both of us pretty much on and off throughout our whole lives, and I’m seriously a pretty awful person and you should probably just kick me to the curb, but before you do, in case I do drop dead…I want you to know, I’m sorry for everything. You were honestly, one of the best parts of my life and I…fucked it all up.”

“Dean-“

“No, Cas, don’t. I know you’re gonna say it was all my dad, and yeah, my dad did all that shit to us, but I’m the one who let myself get scared away from you…I’m the one that did whatever he told me to and I’m the one who lived my life trying to live up to his expectations...when really I should have kidnapped you and taken you to Mexico with me so we could have lived out our days as drug lords with an ocean view condo.” 

Castiel laughed, then slowly moved forward to take one of Dean’s hands in his own, hesitating to give Dean a chance to pull his hand away, but he didn’t, “Dean…we were kids and we were still far from having it all figured out. You admired your dad…you loved him. Of course, you did what you thought would make him happy. When I was little, and I still believed there was hope for Chuck, I did all sorts of things trying to make him happy. Did I ever tell you that he left me as collateral with a drug dealer when I was 5? Yet, still, for years, if he wanted me to steal something for him or help him wash the puke out of his clothes, I was on it. Kids…can forgive their parents almost anything…we all just keep trying to get their love and approval…even when we know it isn’t coming. It takes a long time to realize the truth…that they are just fucked up people too.”

Dean nodded and squeezed Cas’ hand, it was now or never, “Fuck them. Can we…start over or try again or something? I just…I fucking miss you.”

Castiel went quiet and he had his poker face on again, leaving Dean to wait in the empty, heavy silence for an answer. Dean held tight to Cas’ hand, hoping it would help somehow. Like maybe the touch would help Cas see his feelings or if nothing else, maybe it would at least keep him from leaving. 

Cas couldn’t meet Dean’s eyes just yet, even his hold on Dean’s hand had loosened, “Dean…when you say start again…what do you mean _exactly_?”

“I mean…” Dean trailed off, licking his lips, it felt like everything was riding on whatever he said next and the pressure to get it right was paralyzing. He was always so bad with words. “Fuck…”

At that, Cas’ brilliant blue eyes flickered up curiously and captured his gaze, just like they had 14 years ago at that stupid warehouse rave, and suddenly it all felt so simple. Dean let go of a breath he had apparently been holding, “I mean, I wanna be with you, like together. I fucking love you, Cas.” 

Castiel’s poker face splintered briefly, but he turned away just as quickly as if to hide it, releasing Dean’s hand in the process. “Dean, it’s been over a decade since we were together, we’ve changed, we’ve both…been through hell and back. Are you sure you don’t just love who I was? Love the memories or the _idea_ of me?” His eyes finally returned hesitantly to meet Dean’s, and the look Dean found there was heartbreaking. He looked…scared… or hurt. Dean wanted to reach out and pull him close, but he knew better.

“Cas, we can go slow and get to know each other again if you want, but I already know you are still everything I ever loved about you; fuck, you’re even more amazing, if I’m being honest. Seriously, you have aged like a fine wine, Novak,” Dean teased and Castiel cracked a small smile as he rolled his eyes: it felt like a victory. “So, I guess what I’m saying is, it really just comes down to you and what you want…and how you feel about me. I wouldn’t blame you if you told me to fuck off, but I needed you to at least know all of…you know.” 

“In case we die tomorrow?” Castiel clarified, half seriously.

Dean smiled, “Yeah.”

Cas’ brows knit together as he looked at Dean, “You know, _if_ we did…try again…it couldn’t be like before. It couldn’t be a secret. I’m too old for all that.”

Dean grinned with building hope, “Yeah? Me too.” Castiel looked at him curiously and Dean shrugged, “Benny already knows, Jody saw us in the cabin, and hell, Claire has suspected my…uh… less than pure intentions towards you pretty much since the beginning. That doesn’t leave too many people to surprise at this point.”

“What about Sam? He nearly found out while you were gone.”

Dean’s brows lifted, but his grin never faded, “No shit? What happened?”

Castiel smiled, looking away, “I had to convince him that our friendship ended because of my obviously unrequited crush on you.”

“Unrequited? Fuck that. I’ll tell him the truth, Cas, all of it. But you get to tell Jack, pretty sure that kid hasn’t had the birds and the bees talk yet.” Cas lifted a brow at Dean’s sudden confidence, “Cas, I’m serious here, I want to start over and do this right…I want to be a family with you and Sam and the kids. No bullshit, just us, standing together at the end of the whole fucking world…if you’ll have me.”

Castiel looked away, his own feelings torn and hesitant.


	14. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spring~

Winter was long and hard, but by working together, everyone made it through. By the time spring came, there were plans in place for working some of the old farms in the area as well as looking for abandoned farm animals to raise. Now that they had a solid community and a moderately safe area to live in, it was time to look at becoming sustainable. They couldn’t live off looted food and medicines forever after all. 

With the budding warmth and longer daylight, Sam was considering either adding on a bedroom to Cas’ cabin or finding a place nearby to stay in; the pull-out sofa was starting to do permanent damage to his back. Jack was also getting eager to start work on his protective wall around the cabin, though everyone still thought it seemed like more trouble than it was worth. 

Dean had never seen anything like spring in the Pacific Northwest. The once dull brown hills were alive with green and bright yellow, and there were cherry blossom and dogwood trees scattering pink, white, and purple blossoms everywhere. The sun was finally starting to regain some of its warmth, but the air was still cool and fresh. Animals and fish were more prevalent now, which made hunting and fishing even better for the kids. Over all, Dean was starting to wonder why he ever wanted to run to Canada in the first place. Eternal winter would have been awful.

One early morning, after breakfast, Sam took the truck and headed out to the ski lodge to meet up with some of Benny’s people to look at farmland. He definitely wasn’t an expert on farming, being a city kid, but he was interested in learning about it and helping out in whatever way he could. He took the kids with him too, so Claire could continue her lessons on hunting with Jo and Kevin while Jack could meet up with Gavin and Oskar for their fishing trip. 

When Dean came back in after helping them load the truck, he found Castiel wiping down the dining table. “So, looks like it’s just us now,” Dean teased seductively and Castiel looked at him with a raised brow. 

“Seems so,” Castiel answered matter-of-factly as he continued his work. Dean grinned and moved behind him, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s waist, and pulling him close. Castiel sighed dramatically and tossed the washcloth on the table, then leaned back into the embrace, placing his hands over Dean’s, “You can’t even wait another 5 minutes?”

“Nope. Pretty sure I need you naked and up in me…like…yesterday.” 

Castiel turned in his arms to face him, their faces inches apart, “So needy,” he taunted.

Dean gave a cocky, playful smile, “Yup, you knew what you signed up for. Fuck, you signed up for this shit twice. No getting out of putting up with me now, Novak.”

Castiel moved in closer, wrapping his arms gently around Dean’s neck, “Good point,” he pulled Dean down into a kiss. Dean hummed into it and gently pulled Cas with him through the cabin towards their bedroom. They stumbled over each other’s feet as they went, both laughing into the kiss each time they crashed into a wall. 

There would be time for slow and loving later, Dean wanted round 1 fast and hard. It had been about a week since they had had the place to themselves and Dean was not going to waste a minute of it. In the bedroom, he pulled Cas’ shirt off with a lot of ungraceful yanking that made Cas laugh between sloppy, hurried kisses. Once Dean finally got it off of him, he pulled his own off, then his pants, and threw himself back into Cas’ arms, kissing him deeper this time as one hand went around Cas’ waist, and the other moved gently over his cheek and cupped around his ear, angling his face right where he wanted it. 

“Fuck me,” Dean urged between kisses, his breath already erratic with need. 

Castiel smiled and gave him a tiny push on his chest, sending him to the bed. He undid his pajama pants without any rush and crawled slowly onto the bed on top of him, “I think I can handle that.” 

Meanwhile, Claire and Jack stood at the side of the highway looking at the smoke coming out of the hood of the truck. Sam carefully lifted it and a cloud of smoke rushed out towards him. He turned away coughing and covering his face with his shirt. 

“Well?” Claire asked pointedly, crossing her arms to protect herself from the cold mountain wind, “We’re gonna be late.” 

Sam looked back once the smoke started to thin. He was hoping it would be something obvious, like a dead rat stuck somewhere, but no such luck. Just looking at the different parts, he had to face the inevitable truth, Sam had no idea what he was doing. Dean loved cars. That was something else he had picked up from their dad and probably from some of his contacts. He took care of the Impala whenever dad was gone, he had apparently been an on-and-off car thief, and once they were on the road in the apocalypse, he had taken lots of parts from other cars to keep the Impala running this long. He had even had to rebuild her a couple of times. Unfortunately, that meant that Sam had never really picked up any of those skills because he could always just rely on his older brother. “I uh…think we need to get Dean for this.” Claire rolled her eyes and Jack smiled, nodding in support. 

Castiel sat on his knees as he pushed slowly into Dean. Dean arched up to meet him, his eyes shut in bliss and his mouth gaping open as he gave out tiny moans. He fucking loved this part, the sting and the warmth were perfect. How the fuck did he live so long with this. When Cas slid the last bit in, Dean finally opened his eyes and tugged him down for a desperate kiss. It gave them both a moment to adjust and bask in the feeling of being joined. He curled his legs around Cas and pulled him tighter and deeper in as Cas let one hand trace down Dean’s body, lightly brushing over a nipple, then slowly gliding down his side, and finally moving to his cock, giving it a couple of hard strokes. Dean gasped into the kiss, giving Cas even better access.

After a moment, Dean broke the kiss and let his forehead rest against Cas’, “I’m good…go hard. I wanna fucking scream your name until it rings through the whole damn valley. I want Benny calling in a fucking noise complaint.” 

Castiel laughed and began rolling his hips, thrusting hard in short bursts, rocking the old creaky bed against the wall with each movement. “Harder, Cas, I don’t have to walk all damn day. Fucking ruin me. I wanna feel you for days.” 

Cas smirked and pulled out further, nice and slow, then without warning, he slammed back into him all at once, making him cry out. “Like that?”

“Oh, hell yes, Cas. Do it again.” Cas picked up the speed to a brutal pace and set the bed crashing into the wall with every hit, but neither of them seemed to pay any attention. 

“Ah, fuck, yes,” Dean moaned with every breath. When he met Cas’ gaze he couldn’t resist, he eagerly pulled Cas back down to reach his lips. Cas kissed him deeply and messily, then shifted up, pulling Dean onto his lap. Dean looked at him confused and still out of breath. 

“Take what you want Dean,” he leaned in so his mouth was on Dean’s ear, nibbling on it lovingly, “I’m yours.” 

Dean whined and started fucking himself on Cas’s length, both of them leaning back, but holding on to one another for leverage as they moved together, gasping for air. 

Outside, Sam went to the shed to get Dean’s tools out of the trunk of the Impala. The car had been covered with a tarp and left alone through the winter. To Sam, there was something sad about that, but at the same time, he knew the car was impractical for the icy mountain roads, they had learned that lesson well. Still, even after the ice melted, Dean still hadn’t gotten her out. He said Cas’ truck was more convenient. He was right, but hearing him say it was still surprising. It felt like letting go of home…letting go of their father. Maybe to Dean, that’s what it had meant too. If it was, Sam was glad in a way, in the last few months Dean had been happier than Sam had ever seen his brother. He was finally just, being his own man and living his life the way he wanted it. Maybe now, it was time for Sam to start thinking about doing that for himself…

Jack went into the cabin while Claire kicked the mud off of her boots at the doorway. Jack poked around in the kitchen and called down into the cellar, then he went into the hallway. He heard loud gasps coming from Castiel’s room and his eyes went wide. “Claire, I think father is having a panic attack!” 

Claire looked up and rushed in, tracking mud through the living room behind her. 

When she halfway through the living room, she heard the noises and stopped in her tracks, her eyes going wide, “Jack, don’t open the-”

It was too late. Jack stared wide eyed at Dean and Cas, naked and entangled, and they stared at him with equally wide eyes back. All three of them were frozen in horror as Claire finally ran up, covering her eyes, and shut the door, “Oh, my, god. Oh my god, Jack, outside, get outside. We do NOT need to see this.” She grabbed her brother by the shoulders and pulled him out while Cas and Dean looked at each other.

“Did that…really just happen?” Cas asked. 

Dean nodded slowly, looking towards the door, “Fuck…SAM!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed the story~


End file.
